That Song Called Love
by LaurelNymph
Summary: Matthew had always resigned himself to a fate of musical obscurity on a supporting instrument, but after meeting an ex-delinquent named Gilbert, he just might learn to take the lead. High School AU, Prucan, w/other minor pairings. REWRITE IN PROGRESS!
1. Chapter 1

**EDIT: This is the rewritten version of this chapter. I am currently in the middle of rewriting this fic. I hope you enjoy it. **

**A/N This chapter sets up the whole story. It might be a little dry, but it would make the story too complicated to explain everything through flashbacks. Just rest assured that the action starts in the next chapter. I don't own anything, much as I'd like to. By the way, Canada's parents aren't countries, but they are super minor characters and won't show up often. **

**Please enjoy!**

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**Matthew Williams had first been introduced to the world of music when he was five years old. It had begun when his parents had taken him and his little brother, Alfred, to their grandparent's house. The older couple had a grand piano in their living room. It had been hideously out of tune, but both boys had played with the keys for hours. Their parents had seen how much the instrument intrigued them and had signed them up for professional lessons.

Both of the boys enjoyed their lessons greatly. Their teacher taught them countless duets which Alfred and Matthew would play for hours together. Alfred proclaimed himself to be the "hero" and insisted on playing the main part of any duet the brothers tried. Matthew always ended up playing the supporting pieces. He always wanted to try to play the lead, but he hated confrontations and was too afraid to say anything to hurt his little brother. Instead, he just pretended he liked playing the support and continued.

Alfred was always like that. He loved comic books and he enjoyed imagining himself to be the hero. He took that attitude to every part of his life. When the brothers played together, Alfred played the hero and would always proclaim Matthew to be the sidekick. Matthew loved his brother too much to say anything, so he resigned himself to living in his brother's shadow. Alfred's hero antics pervaded everywhere; he insisted on being the hero at school, at piano lessons, and even with their parents' divorce.

It was a typical case of a lonely housewife sick of her workaholic husband choosing work over their family. Through his childish seven-year-old logic, Alfred had determined that his mother was the typical "damsel in distress" and that their father was the villain. His hero complex kicked in and he had quickly refused to have anything to do with his father, going so far as to reject their father's name of Williams and switch to their mother's maiden name of Jones.

The divorce had passed quickly and their mother had agreed to let their father have partial custody of their sons. Matthew had been extremely relieved. He'd been afraid for the entire divorce that he would never see his father again.

Even though the boys were scheduled to spend a week of every month with their father, Matthew was the only one who went. Alfred was adamant in his view of their father as a villain and still refused to see him. Every time Matthew was dropped off at his father's new apartment, he was alone. It pained the eight-year-old to tell his father every time that Alfred wasn't coming, so he did his best to provide his father with enough love for two sons.

It was ultimately his father who changed his life forever, even though neither of them would realize it until Matthew was eighteen years old.

It had been summer vacation and Matthew's father had taken Matthew to New York City. Halfway through their trip, they had run into a man playing the violin on the subway. He was handsome enough and played the violin well, though the violin case sitting on the ground in front of him was empty except for one lonely-looking twenty dollar bill.

The vision of that man struck Matthew. He had stopped, staring at him. The movement of the bow and the high sound entranced him.

"Matthew?" his father questioned, bending down to look at him closely. "Are you okay?"

"Dad!" he whispered loudly, pointing at the man. "I want to learn to play that!"

Ethan Williams smiled warmly at his son.

"I'll take care of it," he promised him.

* * *

On Matthew's next return to his father's home, he came back to see a shiny violin sitting in its open case on his bed. He'd run excitedly to his father and hugged him before running back to his room and caressing his new violin lovingly. After that, Matthew balanced both his piano lessons with Alfred and the violin lessons his father paid for. A few months later, Matthew quit the piano lessons to focus fully on the violin.

As much as he loved the piano, he found himself liking the violin so much more. The instrument fit in his hands as if it were meant to be there. Matthew loved the way it fit snugly under his chin, how the bow dragged across the strings, and the sound it made. What he loved most about the violin was being able to play the lead. The violin was written for solos and playing it allowed him to finally escape his brother's overbearing hero complex.

Of course, Alfred hadn't been able to let Matthew steal all of his limelight. Refusing to be outdone, he, too, had quit their piano lessons. Instead, he had forced their mother to buy him an electric guitar, insisting that it was the "instrument of heroes". She had bought that particular guitar on the advice of her new boyfriend, a young Englishman with thick eyebrows that she'd met at work. Alfred had quickly befriended Arthur Kirkland through the guitar lessons he offered the boy. Arthur had been in a garage punk band when he had been a teenager and taught Alfred everything there was to know about the guitar.

After the first concert Alfred played for his family, he had approached Matthew.

"Mattie," he began, "Some day I'm gonna be a rock star! I'll gonna have a band, too, and I need you as my musical backup! You can be my bassist! Of course, I'll be the singer and the lead guitarist, because those are the hero parts, so I have to take them. You know, since I'm the hero!" he puffed out his chest, looking gleeful.

At that, Matthew had felt torn in two. He didn't want to always be subservient to his little brother, but at the same time, he missed having something in common with his brother. After he'd started his violin lessons and Alfred had begun his guitar lessons, they hadn't had any time to spend together and they had grown apart. Matthew missed the time they'd spent together playing duets. He missed his brother. It was that desire to get closer to his brother that led Matthew to sink back into his brother's shadow and let Arthur teach him the bass guitar. It was nice to connect with his new stepfather, but Matthew never liked the instrument as much as he did his violin.

* * *

At first, Matthew and Alfred's band was pretty pathetic.

Alfred had insisted on naming the band himself and had gone with "The Heroes". He insisted that it was the only name epic enough for their "heroly" music. Matthew wasn't very fond of the name but left it unsaid.

Not only was their name not very good, but neither was their music. Alfred wrote the largest and best parts for himself, hogging all of the music and singing for nearly the entire song. It took quite a bit of time for Alfred to realize that he couldn't overshadow the other instruments and had to let other people play their instruments too, as well as not sing at all times. After he'd realized that, their music had improved drastically. For all of his ridiculous antics and ego, Alfred was quite good with music. He was able to write original pieces for the guitar and come up with lyrics that worked well with their music style. With Matthew's drive pushing Alfred's natural talent, they were able to compose good music, but a bass guitar and a guitar hardly make a band.

Things finally started changing a few years later when Matthew had turned twelve and Alfred was eleven. A new family had moved into their neighborhood, right across the street from the Kirkland house. The Korean family that moved in had a son Alfred's age named Yong Soo. Yong Soo was exceedingly hyper, and in an attempt to channel his energy somewhere productive, Mr. and Mrs. Im had purchased a drum set for their son. Alfred and Matthew had discovered this wonderful fact when their mother had taken them with her to greet their new neighbors. The door had been opened to reveal the loud sounds of furious drum playing. Alfred eagerly invited Yong Soo to join their band and he had readily agreed.

Now that they had a drummer, The Heroes were a real band. It was small, but now they sounded like a professional band. Yong Soo was a genius drum player and meshed well with their established sound. They had plenty of time to practice, too, because Matthew no longer spent time at his father's house. Ethan had climbed the ranks in his business and now worked overseas. Matthew could only spend a week or two with him during summer breaks, but other than that, he was only able to email his father and Skype as often as they could. All of his free time went to the band. It wasn't Matthew's passion, but it made Alfred happy and that was enough to make him happy.

Two years later, The Heroes gained another member for their band. Yong Soo's Japanese cousin, Kiku, had moved to their city and his mother frequently brought him to his cousin's house. One day, Kiku had brought his Greek friend on the same day where The Heroes were practicing at the Im house. Heracles had walked straight over to The Heroes, picked up a spare guitar, and started playing along with one of The Heroes' original songs.

Heracles had been immediately asked (although on Alfred's part, it seemed more like begging) to join The Heroes. He had accepted and joined them as their rhythm guitarist. The band worked had and continued to improve. The Heroes entered high school, still playing together. They remained a tight-knit group until a disaster struck Matthew in his senior year, junior year for the rest of The Heroes.

He met Gilbert.


	2. Chapter 2

**EDIT: This is the rewritten version of this chapter. It begins similarly to the original, but quickly diverges. **

**A/N This fic takes place in the United States, so the high school system has four years. Matthew, Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis are in their fourth year, senior year, and the rest of the characters in high school are in their third year, or junior year. Thank you to all who reviewed and please enjoy!**

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Matthew was going to kill Alfred, he decided, as soon as he got home, in the most painful way he could think of. He was definitely leaning toward using his hockey stick, although he wasn't sure yet just how he was going to use it, but he needed revenge. Although in retrospect, his current predicament was partly his fault; he really should have suspected Alfred earlier when he had claimed that the school needed to be "shaken up a little". But even though he had gotten the feeling that he should have stopped him, how was Matthew supposed to have guessed that his idiotic little brother would actually pull a fire alarm? Not like that didn't happen often. Pulling fire alarms was a common senior prank and happened at least several times a month.

Matthew wasn't angry about Alfred pulling the fire alarm, however. He really couldn't care less about the pranks his brother pulled. What really pissed him off was that _he_ was the one who had gotten the blame for the prank and was now sitting in detention. Apparently, there was a teacher who had seen Alfred pull the alarm and then run off and had given chase. Unfortunately, Matthew had been innocently standing in a nearby hallway and the teacher had seen him and confused him with his brother, dragged him to the counselor's office, and had him thrown in detention.

This was sadly a rather common occurrence. Most of the time, Matthew tended to be invisible. Teachers never seemed to notice his presence in class, and underclassmen would push past him in the hallways entirely unaware of his presence. He was much quieter than his brother, and had difficulty talking to people and making friends. Alfred, on the other hand, was extremely loud, outgoing, and popular. He made friends easily and was on the football team, the baseball team, and the soccer team. As a result, most people knew Alfred but didn't know Matthew, leading them to often confuse the two.

They did look somewhat similar; they both had blond hair, similar builds, and wore glasses, but that was where the similarities ended. In Matthew's opinion, he looked quite different from his brother. His hair was longer and he dressed in a completely different style. However, the teacher that had caught him hadn't seen any of those differences or bothered wondering how the student who had pulled the alarm had changed hairstyles and clothing and remained staunch in his conviction of Matthew's guilt.

Never mind that Alfred's file of pranks and stupidity was as thick as a phonebook and Matthew didn't have a black mark against his name. The school counselor had believed the teacher, even though Matthew had sworn that he hadn't done it and tried to convince them that it had to have been Alfred. He had been ignored and now he was sitting in the detention room, plotting an exquisite revenge against Alfred and maybe the jerk sitting behind him who had been kicking him in the back for the last ten minutes.

He tried to finish his trig homework, but the kicking was very distracting. At the back of his mind, he noticed that it was in perfect 4/4 timing but was too preoccupied with his anger at both his brother and the kicker to think about it. Irritated, he turned around.

"Could you please stop that?" Matthew snapped. He froze as he realized just who he was sitting in front of. It was Gilbert Weillschmidt, probably the most well-known person in the entire school.

"Sorry, kid," Gilbert said, slipping off a set of headphones. "Didn't hear you. What did you just say?"

Matthew couldn't even form a response. The rumors about Gilbert Weillschmidt were insane. He and two of his other senior friends called themselves the Bad Touch Trio and had been terrorizing figures of authority since elementary school. He'd heard countless stories of their exploits and nobody knew which ones were true anymore. Matthew had heard nearly every rumor in the book. They drank, they smoked, and some even insisted that they bought prostitutes every weekend. Most of the student body was convinced that they were involved with the black market and simultaneously sold women, weapons, and drugs. And Matthew had just yelled at him.

Shit.

"S-sorry," Matthew stuttered before quickly turning back to his trig homework, praying that he would live to see the end of this day. He could feel the shift in the desk behind him as Gilbert stood up and stretched leisurely before coming to sit in the desk in front of him. Matthew kept his eyes trained down, a glimpse of Gilbert's steel-toed boots visible past his paper. Matthew held his breath in nervousness as Gilbert leaned closer toward him, leering. Matthew was about a second away from screaming and running for his life.

"You don't look like the type to get detention," Gilbert commented calmly. "What'd you do to end up here?"

Matthew felt the breath he had been holding leave his lungs in a rush. Relief flooded through him. Gilbert didn't sound angry. Maybe he would escape with his life after all. Suddenly, he realized Gilbert was staring at him expectantly and remembered that he had been asked a question.

"Um, I didn't do anything," he squeaked, embarrassed when he heard how high-pitched his voice came out. He flushed.

"Riiiight," Gilbert said, then cackled. "Neither did I!"

"But I really didn't!" Matthew insisted before he realized just how that sounded. "I mean, uh, not that you–"

Matthew's excuses were interrupted by Gilbert's bizarre cackle again.

"Relax, kid, I'm not gonna eat you," he snickered. "_That_ rumor isn't true."

Matthew threw a desperate look toward the front of the room at the clock. Forty-five minutes left to go. And where had their supervising teacher gone?

"So." Gilbert was talking again. "What 'didn't' you do?"

"My brother pulled a fire alarm," Matthew said. "And I got blamed for it."

"Your brother ratted you out? What a douchebag," Gilbert commented.

"He really did pull it," Matthew insisted once more, "But we sort of look alike and some teacher who saw him do it thought it was me."

"Who's your brother?" Gilbert asked.

"Alfred Jones," Matthew replied, saying his brother's name bitterly.

"Really?" Gilbert exclaimed. "Football player Alfred? Annoying junior Alfred?"

Matthew nodded.

"You're seriously related? You don't look anything alike."

Matthew could have hugged Gilbert for that statement alone. _Finally_, someone could tell the difference between himself and Alfred! Even Arthur had trouble and he'd been their stepfather for the last nine years.

"I know, right!" he exclaimed, elated. "But people always mix us up!"

"How?" Gilbert asked incredulously. Matthew shrugged, still feeling happy.

"I have no idea."

There was a short, comfortable moment of silence. Matthew had calmed down completely and was much more at ease with Gilbert. He didn't seem as bad as the rumors said. Gilbert looked around to check to make sure the room was still empty.

"I slipped Viagra into Mr. Frank's coffee," Gilbert admitted. Matthew's eyes widened

"Seriously?" he asked. Gilbert nodded proudly.

"It was fuckin' hilarious," he crowed. "The look on his face!"

Matthew laughed quietly.

"That actually does sound pretty funny."

Matthew considered forgoing skewering Alfred on his hockey stick and taking a page out of Gilbert's book and pranking his little brother. It would be delicious, poetic justice. The problem was, he had never pranked anybody before and didn't know how.

"It was awesome," Gilbert proclaimed as the door to the detention room opened and Mr. Gonzales walked back in with coffee in his hands.

"Stop talking!" he ordered as he sat down and glared at them.

"But Gonzo, I'm bored!" Gilbert whined.

"Don't call me 'Gonzo'," the teacher said in what sounded like an automatic response. "And good! You're not supposed to have fun in here. Now turn around and shut up."

Frowning, Gilbert shifted back toward the front of the room. Silence fell over the room and Matthew found himself really wishing he could be talking to Gilbert again. The clock was ticking loudly and he could see that he still had a lot of time left in detention. Matthew tried to do his homework again, but found himself unable to concentrate, instead replaying their previous conversation in his head. Sighing, Matthew tore another sheet of paper out of his notebook and quickly scribbled a message on it before dropping onto Gilbert's desk while Mr. Gonzales read a book.

"_He needs to get laid."_

Gilbert unfolded the message, read it, and desperately tried to stifle his laughter. His shoulders shook with the effort as he scribbled his own response and tossed it back.

"_Seriously. I should've put the Viagra in _his_ coffee."_

Matthew snickered, hiding the sound by burying his face in the crook of his elbow. He and Gilbert continued passing notes until Mr. Gonzales finally stood up and announced that detention was over. Gilbert grabbed his leather jacket.

"Bye, Jailbird!" he said before sprinting out of the room. Matthew put his things away much more slowly.

Jailbird? Where had Gilbert come up with that? He shook his head and shouldered his backpack before heading on his walk home. He had really enjoyed talking to Gilbert. He'd been a lot nicer than the rumors would have suggested. Matthew shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn't matter. Gilbert had only talked to him because he had been bored. He had probably forgotten about Matthew already. Nearly everybody did. But thinking about it somehow made Matthew more depressed than it usually would have.

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***4/4 timing is a musical time signature which means there are four beats in each measure of music.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thank you again for the reviews. Please enjoy. :)**

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When Matthew finally got home and unlocked his front door, he was met with an irate Alfred waiting for him in the hallway and a nonchalant Yong Soo and Heracles playing some sort of racing game on the couch.

"Where the hell have you been?" Alfred exclaimed angrily. Mathew might have felt slightly intimidated if his younger brother hadn't just taken a huge bite out of the hamburger clutched in his hand, causing his sentence to sound more like a jumbled mess. Was it sad that Matthew understood perfectly clearly anyway? Alfred swallowed the mouthful of burger and continued more clearly. "You're late for practice!"

"Yeah, 'cause of you!" Matthew was quiet most of the time, but once his angry side was unleashed, it was pretty difficult to reign it in. "Some teacher got you confused with me so _I_ ended up in detention all because _you_ pulled that stupid fire alarm!"

At least Alfred had the grace to look sheepish.

"Sorry, man. That wasn't part of the plan."

"I'm sure it wasn't," Matthew replied frostily, turning around to go up the stairs to his room. Practice be damned, he was in too bad of a mood to put up with the obscurity of the bass today. He'd had enough of being ignored in the background. Instead, he was going to enjoy playing his violin for once.

"Waiit! You can't leave!" Alfred yelled, throwing himself on Matthew, who was halfway up the stairs, using his tackling skills to grab his older brother around the legs, effectively preventing Matthew from escaping. "We neeeed yoooou!"

"What for!" Matthew cried in exasperation as he attempted to shake Alfred off and climb the stairs anyway. Damn all that football practice! As if Alfred wasn't annoying enough without his tackling skills. His brother hung on, stubbornly.

"We're writing a new song today!" he grunted. "We have to have an epic song for Battle of the Bands!"

That stopped Matthew.

"You know that's not until May, right? It's still September!"

Alfred smiled up at his brother as they hadn't been fighting two seconds ago.

"Yeah, but if we wanna win, we need an epic song, so we have to get started right away! I already signed us up!" Alfred declared proudly. Matthew sighed.

"You're not going to let go of me until I say yes, are you?"

"Nope!" Alfred replied with a cheerful smile.

"Fine," Matthew growled. "Now let me go!" Alfred let go of Matthew, internally praising his football skills.

"Let's get started!" he cried out as he bounded down the stairs. Matthew followed more slowly. Somehow, he wished he were back in detention with Gilbert than here annoyed and bullied by his brother.

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After three hours, The Heroes admitted defeat. No matter how hard they had tried, they simply had not been able to come up with a good riff for their new song. Yong Soo and Heracles collected their instruments and left. Matthew had gone upstairs to finish his homework while Alfred stayed downstairs with his guitar, still searching for that elusive riff. To adding icing to the cake that was his crappy day, Matthew's mother had to work late and Arthur had cooked dinner. A few bites later, Alfred and Matthew both made up excuses and retreated to their rooms. Arthur was a nice enough guy and a pretty decent stepfather, but the worst cook Matthew had ever met. The man could ruin _cereal_.

By the time Matthew had slogged through his mountain of homework, it was pretty late at night, but his violin, sitting in its case in the corner, was nearly begging him to be played. He grabbed the case and a coat and walked to the park down the street. Feeling a sense of nostalgia, he sat on the jungle gym and took his violin out of his case. Carefully, he tuned it by ear, testing each string. When he was satisfied that his baby was properly taken care of, he tucked it under his chin and lifted the bow.

He started with Glass' Violin Concerto and played until the streetlamps winked out, startling Matthew out of his reverie. He hadn't paid any attention to how much time had passed and it was now well past midnight. Hurriedly, he packed away his violin and dashed home.

Unfortunately for Matthew, his escape hadn't gone unnoticed. When he walked through the front door, Arthur happened to be exiting the kitchen with a glass in his hands.

"Hello, Matthew," Arthur said sleepily. "Just got up for a drink." Matthew nodded and tried to get around his stepfather. Arthur stepped in front of him, blocking his escape to the stairs, looking much more awake than before.

"Is everything all right, Matthew?" Arthur asked with genuine concern. "I didn't know you went out at night."

"I usually don't, I just had a bad day," Matthew replied. Arthur nodded in understanding.

"Just be careful. I used to have some pretty wild nights back when I was a teenager. That's how I ended up with Peter." Matthew blushed at the mention of Arthur's illegitimate son and what exactly his stepfather had just implied. He held up his violin case.

"I was just playing the violin," he clarified. Arthur nodded.

"All right, then. Good night."

"Good night," Matthew muttered back and dashed away to his room.

* * *

Matthew spent the next day in a sleepy stupor. Getting only five hours of sleep was definitely a bad idea, he decided. His head nodded and he shook himself awake. His notes were messy on the page and, as he reread them, found that they made no sense. The teacher's voice was a whine in the back of his head and he felt his eyelids close against his will. Images danced before his eyelids: laughing red eyes, silver hair, and firm hands caressing his face. He was shaken from his dream when his elbow, which had been supporting his head, gave out, leading to his head crashing onto his desk, effectively waking him up and getting everyone in the class' attention.

"Matthew Williams! Were you _sleeping_ in my class?" his AP government teacher asked incredulously. Matthew cringed, now fully awake. This particular teacher hated it when students fell asleep in her class and always wrote them up a detention. The yellow slip of death was placed on his desk.

"Sorry, Matthew, but it's classroom policy." He sighed and took the slip to his counselor.

* * *

"Hey, there, Jailbird! Didn't think I'd been seeing you here again so soon!"

Matthew raised his sleepy head from the desk in detention he had been resting on.

"Gilbert?" he muttered sleepily. The albino grinned at him wickedly.

"Don't tell me you got yourself detention again just to see the awesomeness that is me?"

Matthew shot up in his seat.

"Of course not!" he snapped, feeling dull warmth crawl up into his cheeks. Gilbert only smirked again and leaned back into his chair.

"I wouldn't blame you," he stated, resting his feet on the desk in front of him. "I am pretty awesome."

"I fell asleep in class," Matthew muttered, flushing a darker red.

"Seriously? I sleep in class all the time and I never get a detention!" Gilbert said in confusion. Matthew shot him a look and Gilbert realized what he had just said. "I never get a detention for _sleeping_, anyway."

Matthew sighed and leaned on his hand again, once again nearly nodding off. It was official; he was _never_ staying up that late again. "I stayed up too late," he mumbled into his hand.

"What kept you up so late, Jailbird?" Apparently Gilbert still heard him. "Hot chick?"

Matthew's head shot up again and his hand slammed down onto the des. "NO!" he cried out, flushing even darker than before. Why did everyone have to assume that? Not only Arthur, but his own mother and Alfred, too, had either questioned him or teased him on his whereabouts the night before. "Nothing like that. And will you stop calling me jailbird?" Gilbert laughed.

"But then what would I call you, Jailbird?"

"You could use my name." Matthew was surprised to notice that apparently a lack of sleep made him very bitchy.

"Ah, but Jailbird, you never told me your name."

"Oh," said Matthew, feeling rather foolish. He sat up straighter and offered his hand. "I'm Matthew Williams. Pleased to meet you." Gilbert took Matthew's proffered hand and curled it into a fist before bumping it with his own knuckles.

"Gilbert Weillschmidt."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N A big thank you to Princes Muffin here on fanfiction for helping me come up with the title and a few plot points that show up in the next chapter. Thanks again for all the reviews! Enjoy.**

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Luckily for Matthew, The Heroes didn't have practice that day. As soon as he arrived home, he collapsed on the couch and was asleep in seconds. He slept soundly until dinnertime, feeling much kinder to the world in general after he woke up.

"Where's Arthur?" Matthew asked casually when he noticed his stepfather missing from the table. He looked up to see a stressed expression on his mother's face.

"Yeah, where is he?" Alfred echoed.

"Arthur's gone to England," she replied stiffly. "He'll be back in a week."

"England?" Matthew cried in disbelief.

"Why?" Alfred questioned. Their mother sighed.

"It's Peter." Her voice hardened. Their mother never liked mentioning Arthur's son by a previous girlfriend. It wasn't that she didn't like the boy, who visited their house during the summer and winter breaks. She rather liked it when Peter visited, because he was cute and reminded her of her of Matthew and Alfred when they were little. It was the fact that Arthur was still in contact with Peter's mother that put her on edge whenever Peter was mentioned. Arthur talked to her solely for the purpose of providing for his son, of course, but Matthew knew his mother was still slightly jealous of the correspondence between her husband and his ex.

"His skank of a mother got herself landed in prison." Matthew decided not to point out the hole in his mother's logic. She considered Arthur's ex-girlfriend to be a skank because she had gotten pregnant at 18. By this same logic, Arthur was just as much of a skank for getting her pregnant at the same age, but since Matthew's mother always got so stressed when talking about her, he had decided long ago not to bother correcting her.

"Whoa. What'd she do?" Alfred asked incredulously. Their mother's lips pressed into a thin line.

"She was dealing drugs. In the same _house_ as poor little Peter!"

Just this one, Matthew had to agree that the woman was a skank.

"What an evil bitch," remarked Alfred. It was sign of how much this had bothered their mother that she didn't even seem to care about the language Alfred had just used. Normally, she would have washed Alfred's mouth out with soap if he had said a word like that. Instead, she merely nodded in agreement.

"None of her family wants anything to do with her so the only person Peter has left now is Arthur. He's going to come live with us. That's why Arthur went to England. He's getting Peter's papers and school things taken care of."

"Sweet!" Alfred cried out, pumping a fist into the air. "I've always wanted a little brother!"

"But we're all going to have to make a few sacrifices," warned their mother. "One of you is going to have to walk Peter to school every day, pick him up after school, and mind him all afternoon."

"I'll do it!" shouted Alfred happily. Matthew had a bad feeling that even though Alfred had just promised to mind Peter, he'd be the one who would end up doing it anyway.

"And one last thing," their mother added. "You two are going to have to share a room. Matt," she turned toward Matthew, "I was thinking that it might be easier, since you're going off to college at the end of the year, if you move into Alfred's room and Peter takes your room."

"Awesome!" yelled Alfred, slinging an arm around Matthew's shoulders. "It'll be like a sleepover that lasts nine months!"

"Great," Matthew said weakly.

* * *

Alfred's room was always a disaster zone. He cleaned out half of his room in nearly supersonic speeds he was so excited to be closer to his brother. In only a few hours, there was enough empty space for Matthew to start moving things into Alfred's room. Matthew, however, was moving his things into Alfred's room at a much slower pace.

It wasn't that he didn't love his brother. It was just that he enjoyed his privacy and knew that Alfred wouldn't leave him alone _ever_ until Matthew had left for college. And even after that, Matthew knew Alfred would still call him to bother him all the time.

"Hey, Matt, can I use your phone? I need to call Yong Soo," Alfred called from his bed, where he was cuddling with his guitar and still trying to find the perfect riff for the Battle of the Bands.

"What's wrong with yours?" Matthew asked in response as he carried his pillows and sheets to his newly-moved bed.

"Battery's dead," Alfred replied simply.

"Fine," Matthew sighed and went to his room to get more of his things.

"Hey, who's 'The Awesomeness'?" Alfred called out from his bedroom.

"What?"

"In your phone contacts. There's someone listed as 'The Awesomeness'. Who's that?"

Matthew flushed, thankful that Alfred couldn't see him. It wasn't that difficult for him to figure out just who The Awesomeness was, but he had to wonder how Gilbert had gotten his phone. He kept it in his back pocket, after all. How had he not felt the albino stealing his phone? And not noticed it missing long enough for Gilbert to add himself as a contact?

And just why had he done that, anyway? Matthew felt the flush, which had started to fade, brighten again. Did that mean Gilbert wanted Matthew to call him? Why? It was baffling. Why would a character like Gilbert Weillschmidt be interested in someone invisible like himself for any reason?

"Matt, you okay?" Alfred appeared behind his back. Matthew jumped.

"Fine, just still tired!" he blurted out before rushing, blushing, into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

* * *

A few days later, it was Friday. After having successfully avoided detention every day, Matthew was on his way out of school when Alfred snuck up behind him.

"Matt!" he cried joyfully, scaring the living daylights out of his brother. "Let's walk home together!"

"Only if you promise NEVER to sneak up behind me again." Alfred opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Matthew's phone ringing. Matthew dug his phone out of his pocket and stared at it in amazement. No one besides his mother and occasionally Alfred ever called his cell phone. More bizarre was the caller ID. "The Awesomeness" was calling him. There was even a picture of the smirking albino flashing on the screen. Matthew briefly wondered just how long Gilbert had had his phone the other day to have enough time to not only add himself as a contact but add a picture for the caller ID.

"Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up," Alfred chanted, startling Matthew enough to finally answer his phone.

"H-hello?"

"Jailbird! What took you so long to pick up?"

"I told you not to call me that," Matthew replied, hating the blush that, these days, seemed to have taken up a permanent residence in his cheeks.

"But I like calling you Jailbird. It's an awesome nickname." Matthew noticed Alfred leaning over, trying to listen in. He edged away. "Anyway, Jailbird, look to your left." Matthew turned around. "Farther. Farther. Farther. Too far! Look right!" Matthew looked and saw a grinning, waving Gilbert on his own phone. "Wanna hang out?"

To say that Matthew was surprised was a gross understatement. The only time he'd ever even come close to hanging out with friends was band practice with Yong Soo and Heracles. Having a friend other than his brother and hanging out with that friend sounded fantastic.

"Yeah! Sounds great!" Matthew replied, smiling.

"Awesome. Wait in front of the school and I'll pull my car around." Gilbert hung up and walked away. Matthew shut his phone and put it back in his pocket.

"Maaaatt," Alfred whined. "Who was that?"

"None of your business," Matthew replied, feeling a lot more confident after the short phone conversation he had just had.

"C'mon, we're brothers!" Alfred insisted. "Tell me who your girlfriend is!"

That annoying blush was back.

"That wasn't my girlfriend! I don't even have a girlfriend!" Matthew stammered.

"I recognized that look on your face!" Alfred teased. "It was totally a lovestruck gaze!"

"It was not a lovestruck gaze!"

"Whatever you say," Alfred said, winking obnoxiously. "I'll leave you and your mystery girlfriend alone! For now." Waving, Alfred walked away just as Gilbert pulled up in a battered Mercedes-Benz. "Ready for an awesome hang out?"

Matthew shoved his things in the back seat along with Gilbert's and then slid into the passenger seat.

"Sure," he replied. Gilbert grinned and hit the gas pedal.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N As always, enjoy!**

* * *

The car squealed away from the school and Matthew's first official Hang-out With Friends Other Than Alfred had begun.

"So where are we going?" Matthew asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

"The mall. I need to pick up a CD I ordered and it sounded boring to go alone. I saw you and it looked like you weren't doing anything, so I asked."

"Oh."

There was another awkward silence.

"By the way, when exactly did you steal my phone?"

"The other day in detention," Gilbert replied cheerfully. "You were dead asleep, and it was just sticking out of your pocket so I messed with it a little."

"I noticed."

"I needed to make sure my awesomeness was in your contacts in case I ever called you."

"I see."

The silence was back. Matthew stabbed the on button for the radio, feeling like a failure. The one time someone besides his brother noticed him and took an interest in being his friend and he couldn't even hold a decent conversation! Maybe he just wasn't meant to have friends.

The radio remained on until they had arrived at the mall a few minutes later. They parked as close as possible to the music store where Gilbert had ordered his CD.

"So what CD did you order? It must've been pretty obscure," Matthew asked on their way into the mall, trying to start the conversation up again. For some reason, Gilbert suddenly looked nervous.

"Oh, yeah, a _seriously_ obscure German band," Gilbert replied quickly. "You wouldn't like them."

By then, they had arrived at the store so Matthew let the subject drop. He browsed the indie rock as Gilbert went up the counter to get his CD. Matthew looked longingly over at the shelves of classical violin music. He was tempted to go over and look, but Gilbert didn't look like the type to like classical music and he didn't want to make a bad impression and lose the first friend he'd ever made.

"I got my awesome CD!" Gilbert announced, appearing behind Matthew. "The guy at the counter was being an unawesome ass, but I got it!" He held up the bag with the CD triumphantly.

"Oh, cool," Matthew replied, tearing his eyes away from the violin music. "Can I see?" Again, Gilbert seemed to get nervous.

"You know, the cover art's a little weird, you don't wanna see it." Gilbert shifted nervously. Quickly, he changed the subject. "So what else do you wanna do while we're at the mall?"

Matthew had no idea why Gilbert was being so weird about the CD, but again let it drop. He sincerely hoped it wasn't some sort of weird code for drugs, if those rumors about Gilbert being a drug dealer turned out to be true.

"Let's get ice cream," Matthew suggested. They chatted about school and their families as they headed to the self-serve ice cream store. Matthew got vanilla and Gilbert got German chocolate with brownie bits mixed in, all drizzled in chocolate fudge. Matthew couldn't help but notice that it was a rather glaring symbol of the differences in their personalities. He shook his head. He was paying too much attention in English Literature.

As they walked around with their ice cream, Matthew found it easier and easier to talk to Gilbert. He was honestly having a good time. He certainly wouldn't mind hanging out like this more often. Gilbert and Matthew walked around some more, passing a store which sold instruments. Matthew suddenly remembered that he needed new strings for his bass.

"Hang on a minute, I need something for my bass," he cried as he dragged Gilbert into the store.

"You play bass?" Gilbert asked as he let himself be dragged around the store. "How weird. The awesome me is also a bassist!"

"Really?" Matthew asked, stopping in surprise. "What a coincidence!" He started moving again, searching for the bass strings.

"How long have you been playing?" Gilbert asked.

"Almost nine years, now," Matthew replied as he searched for his favorite brand of strings. "My brother suckered me into learning bass after he learned how to play the guitar. He said I needed to because he needed me as his musical backup." Matthew seized the package of strings he wanted and made his way to the counter.

"You should've told him just where he could shove his musical backup."

Matthew laughed.

"But I like the bass, so it's all right."

"I still think you should've said it," muttered Gilbert, almost angrily.

They returned back to the car and had a much more conversation-filled ride home. Gilbert dropped Matthew back off at his house, where a familiar car was parked in the driveway. Arthur was back. Matthew hurried into the house where he was immediately attacked by a sandy-haired twelve-year-old.

"Mattie!" cried out Peter Kirkland as he knocked the wind out of his stepbrother, hugging him around the waist.

"Hello, Peter!" Matthew choked out, still trying to regain his breath.

"Peter, don't kill your brother. Let him breathe," scolded Arthur. Still smiling brightly, Peter let go of Matthew and grabbed him by the hand, dragging him to the dining room where the rest of the family was waiting for him. His mother got up when she saw him.

"We were waiting for you to come back from your date so we could eat dinner together as a family!" she said cheerfully before disappearing into the kitchen to get the food.

"It wasn't a date," Matthew insisted after her.

"It'll be a date next time," Arthur assured. "Just tell her you're a musician. Girls love that. And write her a song."

Matthew was saved from any further nonapplicable advice when his mother reappeared with dinner. As everyone had settled down, Matthew quietly turned to Arthur.

"Arthur, I though you weren't coming back until tomorrow?"

"I got everything taken care of sooner than I had thought and there wasn't any reason to stay around so we caught an earlier flight."

"I threw up on the aeroplane!" Peter announced proudly. "Twice!"

"That you did," said Arthur, tousling his son's hair lovingly.

* * *

After dinner, Alfred and Matthew retired to their room with their instruments. They had yet to come up with a good riff for their song to compete in the Battle of the Bands. Once again, they each tried, strumming and tapping in a desperate effort to come up with something good enough to compete with.

To say that they were both frustrated was a colossal understatement.

"What the hell's wrong?" cried out Alfred in exasperation, nearly throwing his guitar against the wall in anger. "We've written great songs before, why is it so freakin' hard this time?"

"I don't know," Matthew tiredly replied. "How did we do it before?"

Alfred scratched his head. "I don't remember. Music just always came to me before."

"Maybe that's the problem," Matthew said gently. "Maybe trying so hard is the reason why we can't come up with anything. I think we just need to let the perfect song come to us when it does."

Alfred sighed in defeat.

"You might be right."

Matthew sighed and lay back against his bed, his bass cradled against his chest.

"So how'd your date go, anyway? You can tell me."

"I'm telling you it wasn't a date!" Matthew replied hotly and then started to play again to try to drown out Alfred's stupidity. Really. Him dating Gilbert? It was ridiculous.

"Then next time you should make it one! I don't know why any girl would turn you down. You're pretty awesome."

The word filled Matthew's mind with Gilbert. His face, his voice, his rough hands against his own when he had dragged him around the mall. Matthew's heart raced and his face flushed. His fingers slid against the strings of their own accord.

Alfred's head snapped up.

"Matt." He said the name with the utmost seriousness. "Play that again."

Matthew managed to find the frets again and replayed the accidental riff. Alfred's astounded face slowly changed into an ecstatic one.

"Matt! You're a genius! It's perfect! Perfect, perfect, perfect! WE DID IT!"

"Yeah," Matthew muttered, hardly even paying attention to Alfred. Instead, his thoughts were full of Gilbert. "We did it."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Please enjoy. :)**

* * *

To nobody's general surprise, when Monday morning rolled around, Alfred had forgotten all about his promise to take care of Peter before and after school and had disappeared. Just as he had predicted, Matthew ended up being the one to walk Peter to the middle school, which was luckily only a block away from the high school. He had to hurry to make it to his first class on time, but he managed to slide into his chair with seconds to spare.

After hours of boring material, the lunch bell rang. Matthew made his way slowly outside of class, heading to the table in the corner of the cafeteria where he normally ate his lunch alone. However, he was stopped by Gilbert's enthusiastic voice.

"Jailbird!" A few people in the hallway turned to stare as the most well-known senior waved over someone that most of them had never even noticed before.

"Eat lunch with us," Gilbert ordered when Matthew was close enough for him to not have to scream.

"Um, sure," Matthew gave in, following Gilbert to a table towards the edge of the room where there was a small group of people sitting.

"Jailbird, this is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, Francis Bonnefoy, Lovino and Feliciano Vargas, and my little brother Ludwig," Gilbert introduced, pointing to each person as he named them. "Guys, this is Jailbird."

"Matthew Williams," he corrected. "It's nice to meet you." A chorus of multi-lingual "hellos" greeted him.

"Hola!" "Bonjour!" "Guten tag." "Ciao!"

"Sit next to me!" Gilbert demanded again, throwing himself into a chair, backwards. Matthew sat in the chair next to him.

"I haven't seen you around here before," Antonio said cheerfully with a Spanish accent. "Are you new?"

"No, I've been going here all four years."

"Really?" asked Francis, with a predatory look on his face, leaning across the table, dangerously close to Matthew. "Non, I cannot believe that I haven't noticed someone so cute in four years." He, too, had an accent, though it was French.

"H-huh?" Matthew stammered. Underneath the table, Gilbert kicked Francis.

"Just ignore him," Gilbert advised.

"Ve, Ludwig, I want pasta!" One of the twins, Matthew couldn't yet tell which was which, suddenly latched onto Gilbert's brother's arm. "Ve, let's go get pasta!" he cried as he tugged the taller boy to his feet and dragged him off.

"Get away from my brother, you perverted potato bastard!" shrieked the other twin, leaping to his feet and running after the other two.

"Lovi~! Be nice to your brother!" Antonio sang out before running after and then glomping the angrier twin, Lovino?, happily.

"Get off me!" They continued to struggle in the middle of the cafeteria, attracting a huge amount of attention. Matthew's phone buzzed in his pocket. He read the text silently: _matt y r u w/those weirdos?_. Matthew frowned at the message and decided to ignore it.

"Matthieu, Gilbert tells me you're in a band?" Francis asked, a curious look on his face, still uncomfortably close to him. Under the table, Gilbert's hands fisted.

"Yeah, I play bass."

"Any others?" Francis demanded, still looking him in the eyes. Matthew bit the inside of his lip and again, decided to keep his violin skills a secret. There was no way he was going to lose his chance to make friends now.

"Piano, when I was little, but now I just play for my brother's band." For some odd reason, Francis looked rather disappointed at the news.

"Luddy's always bitching about Alfred during the soccer season," Gilbert laughed.

"Alfred Jones is your brother?" Francis exclaimed in surprise. "Mon Dieu, I would have never guessed! You two are nothing alike!"

Mathew couldn't keep the smile off of his face. After being ignored most of his life, finding people who could tell him apart was one of the greatest things to happen to him in his life so far. He could do this. He could so make friends of his own. His pocket buzzed again. _matt i need u 2 do me a favor com talk 2 me._ Matthew sighed. Apparently it _was_ impossible for him to have a normal life if Alfred was alive and kicking. Matthew made an excuse and left the table.

"My, my, Gilbert. Wherever did you find such a cute young man?" Francis nearly purred, his eyes firmly fixed on Matthew's behind as he walked away.

"Hey, back off! He's off-limits!" Gilbert snapped. He wasn't entirely sure why, but Francis' attitude towards Matthew was really pissing him off. Francis' eyes widened.

"Gilbert, if you've already claimed him for yourself you only have to tell me." Francis shook his head in disappointment. "No need to get jealous." Gilbert's pale cheeks flushed.

"What the hell?" he half-yelled. "I'm not a homo like you! And I'm _not_ jealous."

"Oh, but I think you _are_ a homo." Francis grinned. "And you most certainly _are_ jealous. You got angry when I tried to take away your little boy toy."

"Don't call him that," Gilbert growled. "And I am not a homo! I just think he's way too cute and innocent for a creep like you to take advantage of him."

Francis leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow at Gilbert, shooting him a look that plainly said _"Really?"_.

Luckily, Gilbert was spared having to come up with an answer by the bell ringing.

"Shall we finish this later then?" Francis asked.

"There's nothing to finish. I'm not a homo, but if you ever bother Jailbird I'll rip your head off." Then Gilbert stormed off. Francis smirked to himself. This was definitely an interesting development.

* * *

It turned out that the favor Alfred needed was for Matthew to watch Peter after school. "Just this once!" Alfred had insisted. Matthew had smiled and nodded, knowing that he was taking care of Peter until he graduated. It was a good thing Peter was a nice kid, otherwise Matthew would have been annoyed. At least it wasn't like a chore, or bothersome in any way.

Or at least, that's what he felt like until he had actually gone to pick up Peter. He'd gone to Peter's homeroom class, because he had told Peter to wait there and do his homework until he arrived. He regretted the decision as soon as the door opened after his timid knock.

He had never been so scared in his entire life. A thin, blond man towered over him with a glare that terrified even kids passing in the hallway.

"Who 're you?"

Matthew trembled.

"I-I-I'm picking up my little b-brother," he managed to stutter out. "P-P-Peter Kirkland." Another darker, blond man, a smaller one, pulled on the scary man's shoulder, pulling him back into the room, allowing Matthew to finally breathe.

"You're Peter's older brother?" the non-scary man asked brightly. "He's a good kid. He's so friendly." He turned to the scary man. "Mr. Oxenstierna, why don't you go get Peter?"

"T'no, I k'p t'llin' you, you c'n c'll me Berw'ld," the scary man, Mr. Oxenstierna murmured. The smaller man blushed.

"I couldn't possibly," he stammered. "You're my boss, I shouldn't."

Looking disappointed, Mr. Oxenstierna left to go get Peter.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Oxenstierna isn't very sociable," the smaller man chucked, a hint of a blush still staining his face. "I'm Tino Väinämöinen. I'm a student teacher. I'm working with Mr. Oxenstierna, Peter's homeroom teacher."

"Matthew Williams, it's a pleasure." Mr. Väinämöinen looked slightly surprised at the different surnames. "Peter is actually my stepbrother," he added, to ward off the younger man's confusion.

"Mattie!" Peter again greeted his stepbrother by knocking the wind out of him with a hug.

"Oof! Peter!" he grunted, his voice lowering a few octaves with the force of the impact. He and Peter made their way home, Peter chatting the whole way about his school day and his new friend Raivis, a high-school freshman who volunteered to tutor middle school kids after school.

When he got home, the Heroes were ready to get to work.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Enjoy! **

* * *

"Thanks for coming to this with me again," Matthew said to his friend, rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

"No problem," Gilbert replied, wrapping his scarf more tightly around his neck to stave off the chill. "Everything's boring without my awesomeness."

The two friends were currently in the stands of the school's football stadium, watching Alfred's first game. He was originally only an alternate running back, but after another player's injury, had been moved to the first string, which meant that he would play in every game for the rest of the season. Matthew didn't particularly like football, but his little brother was so excited he couldn't not go to the game.

Peter, Arthur, and his mother were sitting off somewhere closer to the field, but Matthew and Gilbert were sitting at the top of the stadium. They had arrived to the game late and there weren't any seats closer. Since he wasn't very fond of football, he had called Gilbert to ask if he'd go with him to the game in an attempt to make the experience more fun. Gilbert had agreed and now here they were.

The stadium erupted in cheers as Alfred scored a touchdown, putting their school team ahead.

"I don't get why people like this game," Gilbert complained.

"Me either," agreed Matthew. Hockey was obviously better.

"I mean," Gilbert continued, "one guy scores and the rest of them just run around, unawesomely tackling each other. What's the point of even having a team? That's why I like skateboarding better. You get all the credit for your own awesomeness."

"Hockey's pretty awesome, too," Matthew added. Gilbert frowned.

"You know, I've never watched hockey." Matthew gasped sharply.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, still in shock. "Hockey's the greatest! I have to teach you all about hockey," he declared firmly. Ever since he had started hanging out with Gilbert and his friends, Matthew had gotten a lot more confident, as well as assertive. Gilbert laughed.

"Sure. Why not? But you have to let me teach you all about the awesomeness of skateboarding."

Matthew grinned. "It's a deal."

* * *

The next morning, Matthew met a yawning Gilbert at the skating rink.

"Jailbird," he whined. "Why'd we have to come here so unawesomely early?"

"There are less people in the morning," Matthew replied. "And those are the hours they have the hockey things out. After ward, they take everything off the ice for regular ice skating." He wasn't feeling tired at all with the incentive of hockey to keep him awake. If anything could put Matthew in a better mood no matter what the circumstances, it was hockey.

He and Gilbert entered the rink and Matthew started his lesson as they laced up their skates.

"The basic goal of hockey is to get the puck in the net. You can only use the hockey stick to move the puck, but if it flies into the air, you're allowed to use your hands to smack it back onto the ice, but you can't hold it." They moved onto the ice. They were the only ones there. "The goalie is allowed to pick it up, but only when the puck's in the goal crease."

"Got it," Gilbert declared. "Get the puck in the net, don't touch it. Can we start now?"

There was still a lot more to hockey, but Matthew decided that it would probably be easier to just show Gilbert the rest of it. He dropped the puck onto the ice, explaining how each team got possession of the puck by expertly stealing it from Gilbert as soon as it hit the ice. Matthew did his best to stay as slow and easy as possible, but still stayed light-years ahead of Gilbert. Matthew skidded to a stop.

"Dammit, you won't defeat the awesomeness!" Gilbert growled, putting on a sudden burst of speed and stealing the puck from a very shocked Matthew. He hadn't skated more than ten feet away before a blur slammed him into the wall and stole the puck back.

"Jesus, Mattie!" Gilbert wailed, holding onto the wall, doubled over in pain. "What the hell did you do that for?" Matthew quickly skated back to his fallen friend, dropping his hockey stick in worry.

"Oh my God, Gil, I'm so sorry! I completely forgot to tell you about checking!" Matthew cried out, straightening his friend and checking him for any injuries.

"What?"

"That was a body check. You can do that to another player in possession of the puck to get it away from them," Matthew explained as he made sure he hadn't hurt Gilbert. Luckily, he hadn't checked him with full force and Gilbert was unharmed. "There are all sorts of checks: hip checks, body checks, shoulder checks," Matthew continued listing and explaining the different types of checks, but Gilbert was too distracted by Matthew's hands to pay any attention.

They had stopped their search for possible injuries and had come to rest on his chest. Gilbert couldn't explain it, but his heart suddenly started beating wildly and he was overcome with a sudden desire to grab those hands and pull Matthew closer to him. He flushed with shame when he realized what he had just been thinking. Matthew was his friend, and more importantly, a guy. Those feelings were unnatural and wrong and he forced them down, somewhere where he would never have to admit that they had ever existed. He backed away from Matthew, quickly putting up a façade like everything was all right. Which it wasn't.

"So, Jailbird, what you're saying is, I can do this to you?" Gilbert asked before knocking Matthew into the wall with his shoulder and skating away after the puck. Matthew's initial shock wore off quickly, and, laughing, he chased after Gilbert.

* * *

Gilbert and Matthew continued with hockey until the rink switched from hockey to ice skating, then they drove to a nearby park for Gilbert's "Awesome Skateboarding Lesson". Matthew was understandably nervous. He had seen extreme skateboarding on television (Alfred nearly worshipped Tony Hawk) and he wasn't very eager to break all the bones in his body. Gilbert, however, was excitedly talking about all of the cool moves he was going to teach Matthew as he opened his car trunk to get the equipment. None of the words coming out of his mouth were making much sense, words like "ollie", "one eighty", and "five seventy". Matthew gulped.

"Umm, Gil," Mathew started. "Could we maybe start a little easier?"

"How much easier?"

"Getting on the skateboard easier." Gilbert laughed.

"Sure, Jailbird." He reached into the trunk of his car and tossed a helmet at Matthew, who barely managed to catch it. They made their way toward the section of the park set off for skateboarding. Matthew was thankful that no one was there to witness what was sure to be his humiliation. He buckled the helmet and accepted the beat up skateboard Gilbert handed to him. Setting it down on the ground, Matthew desperately tried to think of some sort of excuse he could use to get out of this.

"You better not be thinking of chickening out, Jailbird."

He gulped and put his left foot on the board. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the other foot against the ground, sending him forward. The board careened to his left and he crashed spectacularly into Gilbert, knocking him over and landing on top of him. Gilbert was sure at that moment that his heart had stopped beating. He was aware that his breath had already stopped. He sucked in air, trying to fight off those bizarre feelings from before that had unfortunately resurfaced. Again, he beat them down, feigning indifference.

"Geez, Jailbird, if you want me you can just tell me," Gilbert teased shakily from below Matthew, who had frozen and turned an interesting shade of red at their position. He was straddling Gilbert. He was _straddling_ Gilbert! And if the fluttering in the pit of his stomach was anything to go by, he liked it. With a rather unmanly cry, he threw himself off of Gilbert, who started laughing quietly. If he had been paying attention to the laughter he might have noticed its nervous quality, but he was too busy freaking out. There was no way this was happening to him. There was no way he was attracted to his friend, let alone his guy friend. It was then that he noticed how hard his friend was laughing at him.

"Shut up," he growled. Gilbert only laughed harder. His laughter was contagious, and after a few minutes they finally managed to stop laughing, still lying on the ground, the awkwardness passed.

"Hey, Jailbird."

"What is it, Gil?"

"I'm thinking of getting a piercing."

Matthew sat up and looked at Gilbert in shock.

"What kind of piercing?"

"Tongue piercing," Gilbert replied. "Antonio and Francis think it's a great idea, Ludwig and Lovino think it's a crap idea. I need a tiebreaker." Matthew looked at him, carefully considering the matter.

"I think it'd look pretty cool," he said finally. "But won't it be annoying? I mean, isn't your mouth going to taste like metal all the time?"

Gilbert shrugged. "Shouldn't be any worse than braces, right?"

"I guess so," Matthew agreed.

"All right then! The awesome me is going to get a tongue piercing!"

For the rest of the afternoon, the two friends lay in the grass, talking about whatever they felt like until the sun started setting and Gilbert took Matthew home. For the rest of the night, they both lay awake in their separate houses, unable to sleep, both thinking about the strange feelings they had felt that day and trying their best to deny them.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**As soon as very romantically confused Matthew got home he was tackled by a very excited football player.

"MAAAAT!" Alfred cried out as he smashed into his brother. Peter took a cue from Alfred and joined in on the tackling. Matthew was certain bones were cracking and organs were being squeezed out of commission.

"Let me go!" he groaned, trying to find even an ounce of room to get away from his insane little brothers.

"No!" wailed Peter. "You spend too much time with your girlfriend!"

"I don't have a girlfriend," Matthew argued weakly. He had stopped seriously trying to convince his family that he didn't have a girlfriend, because they simply refused to believe him. Instead, he just let them think whatever they wanted and went to hang out with Gilbert instead. Of course, no one knew about that.

"You do, too!" Alfred insisted, finally relaxing and letting him go. Peter, however, kept clinging on. "You barely spend any time with us anymore." He uncharacteristically pouted. "You weren't even there when Arthur finally caved in!"

"Caved in to what?"

"My awesome Christmas idea!" Why did that word remind him of Gilbert and all of those weird feelings that came with him? He was already confused from earlier and he would rather avoid that particular topic for now. He didn't want to deal with his definitely-not-a-crush. Who happened to be rather good-looking. And fun to hang out with. And, to put it in his definitely-not-a-crush's own words, awesome.

"Mattie, stop it!" Peter wailed. Matthew was startled out of his thoughts.

"Stop what?" he asked in bewilderment.

"Making that lovey-dovey face."

"I am not!"

"You are," Alfred declared. "But you didn't let me tell you about my Christmas idea!"

"What is your idea, Alfred?" Matthew asked, sighing in defeat. Alfred brightened up.

"Arthur's letting me make a CD for my Christmas present!" Alfred almost squealed. "We're going to put out our first CD! Isn't it awesome!"

Matthew was really starting to hate that word. It wasn't letting him rest from those horrible not-a-crush feelings that felt way too much like a crush for his own good.

"Maatt!" Alfred whined. "Aren't you excited? The Heroes are going to have a CD!" Matthew smiled weakly.

"Great."

* * *

Alfred became a whirlwind of action after that. He made all of the arrangements himself, picked out their best songs, the track order, and generally buzzed around excitedly. Matthew was actually rather grateful, because it meant Alfred was leaving him alone. Although, being alone only left him with his own insecurities about what exactly he was feeling about Gilbert. There was no way to deny it; Matthew liked him. He had given up on trying to deny this fact, much as it unnerved him. Their impromptu sports day had put any doubt to rest.

Matthew was at a complete loss on what to do. He had never even considered before in his life that he might be gay, yet here he was, crushing on his male best friend. His best friend who was extremely manly and egotistical and entirely out-of-reach. He was almost regretting that Alfred had completely dominated their CD. Being busy would have at least kept his mind off his unrequited... whatever it was.

Ringing interrupted his inner monologue . Gratefully, he snatched up his phone, not even needing to check the caller ID to know who it was.

"Hey, Gilbert," he greeted breathlessly. God, why did his heart rate have to go up every time he heard Gilbert's voice? He felt like such a teenage girl.

"Hey, Jailbird! Wanna come with me to get my awesome tongue piercing? I found a good place."

"Sure, why not?"

"Okay, then come downstairs." Matthew blinked.

"What?"

"I'm waiting outside your house."

Matthew looked out the window and saw that Gilbert was leaning against his car, which was parked in their driveway. Gilbert waved when he saw Matthew.

"Um, sure, here I come," he answered before hanging up. Why did that have to feel so romantic? It was just like that balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet. Except with two men. Which was actually historically accurate, but it still felt way too romantic.

Damn this crush.

"I'm going out," he called out on his way out the door.

"Have fun with your girlfriend!" his mother called back cheerfully. Blushing heavily, Matthew dashed out the door and joined Gilbert in his car. Which, unfortunately, had the windows rolled down.

"You've been cheating on me!" Gilbert mock gasped. "With another girlfriend?" Matthew's blush intensified.

"They refuse to believe that I don't have a girlfriend so I stopped bothering to correct them."

Gilbert teased him until they had reached their destination: a somewhat seedy looking tattoo parlor. Gilbert was nearly bouncing in his seat with excitement. His intense fervor for this whole piercing business was starting to rub off on Matthew. He was even considering what it would be like to get his own piercing.

Gilbert walked up to the counter to the tattoo artist, who happened to be a heavily tattooed, scary-looking female. He followed Gilbert to the piercing chair and watched in fascination as the tattoo artist prepared Gilbert for the piercing. She first cleaned off needle and circle clamp that was then clamped down on Gilbert's tongue. Going from underneath, the tattoo artist slipped the needle through, then the stud, and then screwed on the ball.

Watching all of this, Matthew felt rather rebellious. He almost wanted to get a piercing of his own. Gilbert hopped out of the chair and went to pay the tattoo artist. He turned back and stuck his tongue out gleefully at Matthew. He had to admit, that piercing was _hot_. He wished he could pull off something like that. But there was no way he could get a piercing.

Now that he thought of it, he _was_ eighteen. He could get a piercing if he wanted to. And he wanted to.

"Oi, Jailbird! Isn't this awesome?" Gilbert crowed (lisping slightly) as he showed off his piercing proudly.

"It is," Matthew agreed. "I think I want one, too." Gilbert looked shocked.

"Really?" he asked. Matthew nodded. Then, oddly enough, Gilbert frowned. "Are you sure? You haven't really thought about this at all. What if you regret it?" Matthew shrugged.

"If I really hate it I can always let the hole close up."

"That's true," Gilbert concurred. "And a tongue piercing would look seriously awesome on you!"

If he had had any trepidations about getting the piercing they were gone now. After getting the tattoo artist back at the piercing chair, Matthew was quickly prepped for the tongue stud. To his surprise, the pain was minimal as the needle slid though the muscle of his tongue. He still winced, however.

Gilbert had no idea why, but for some reason, he felt uncomfortable when he saw the needle slide through his friends tongue. He hated the thought that his friend might be in pain, even though he knew from experience that it wasn't that bad.

Why was he even thinking like this? There was no reason the awesomeness that was him should be concerned about anybody else. Thoughts like this were pervading his mind more often lately, and he hated them. They were way too confusing. It almost felt like that one time when he had had a crush on... He wasn't even going to finish that sentence. There was no point. This was most certainly not a crush. Matthew was just a really good friend, he decided firmly. While Gilbert was distracted by these thoughts, Matthew got up from the piercing chair and went to pay the woman and then they left the parlor. Gilbert couldn't keep himself silent.

"Damn, Jailbird, that stud looks almost as awesome on you as it does on me."

Matthew flushed at the compliment. He hated it when Gilbert made comments like that. It only reminded him just how much he liked Gilbert.

"Thanks," he said weakly, smiling at Gilbert, his heart thumping ridiculously.

Little did he know, Gilbert's heart was pounding in perfect time with his.

* * *

Eating dinner was a bit difficult that night with his new tongue stud. So was talking. He and Gilbert were both sporting lisps now. Matthew prayed his family wouldn't notice.

"Matthew, lad, stick out your tongue." Apparently those prayers had been ignored. Matthew looked quizzically at his stepfather.

"Why, Arthur?" he asked, carefully trying to mask his lisp.

"Because I had the same thing done when I was fourteen, so I know exactly what you're hiding," Arthur replied. Matthew gulped then slowly opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. His mother screamed.

"Bloody hell," Arthur swore. Peter looked generally confused and Alfred looked outright jealous.

"Matt, that is so cool!" he whined. "Mom, can I get one, too?"

"Absolutely not!" she shot at Alfred before she turned to Matthew in horror. "Matt, why in the world would you do something like that?" Matthew shrugged.

"My friend has one and it looked really cool and so-"

"Matthew, you were peer-pressured into this?" Arthur exclaimed.

"No!" Matthew insisted. "I made the decision to get this on my own."

"You're still grounded," his mother announced. Matthew winced.

* * *

***In Shakespeare's time, women were not allowed to be actors, so all female roles were played by men. Roles that were younger women and more romantic, like Juliet, were played by prepubescent boys whose voices hadn't changed yet.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Please enjoy! :)**

**

* * *

**Luckily for Matthew (and Alfred), even though he was technically grounded, their mother let him out long enough to record their new CD. If she hadn't, Alfred probably would have wasted away and become an emo. The Heroes spent two full weekends recording at the studio Alfred had picked out. Matthew was very glad they were recording then, because he might've gone crazy if he had had to stay home all those days doing nothing. At least he was able see Gilbert at school for a bit and text him.

Finally, after two boring, agonizing, Gilbert-less weeks, his grounding was up. The adage had held true: absence did make his heart grow fonder. He knew he never had a chance in the world with Gilbert, but during those two weeks he had missed everything about Gilbert. True, he still saw him during school, but he found that Gilbert acted differently when the other members of the Trio were around than he did when it was just him and Matthew. That was the Gilbert Matthew had missed. That was the Gilbert who had texted him every day of his confinement. That was the Gilbert who had shown up at his house the day his grounding had ended just to hang out at the park. That was the Gilbert he had fallen for.

"Hey, look at that awesome cloud! It's shaped just like a dick!" Gilbert gleefully announced, pointing at the cloud that was indeed shaped that way. Matthew shook his head, laughing lightly.

"I can't believe you'd think of something like that in a children's park," he scolded lightly.

"You know you were thinking the same thing, Jailbird," teased Gilbert. Matthew snorted. "So anyway, you doing anything on Halloween?"

"Well, I have to take Peter trick-or-treating and everyone else in my family has some party to go to."

"Oh," Gilbert said. "'Cause Francis is having a party and he said you're free to come, but I guess the awesome me can go trick-or-treating with you and your little brother." Matthew felt another familiar wave of mushy sentiments wash over him. He had fallen for Gilbert _hard_. Why did even simple, offhand statements like that have to make him _so damn happy_? He wasn't sure if he'd ever survive this crush.

"Jailbird?" Gilbert had sat up and was now peering down on him "You okay?" Matthew was certainly _not_ okay. Gilbert was floating a foot over him, the perfect distance for kissing, if he only sat up. His heart was thumping madly and Matthew got the feeling if he didn't get over this crush soon he'd die of a heart attack.

"I'm fine," he stuttered, sliding away slightly from Gilbert to resist the temptation of trying to kiss his best friend senseless. Gilbert drew back as well, feeling a strange disappointment. That was happening a lot lately, him feeling weird things about Matthew. Francis kept insisting that those feelings amounted to love, but Gilbert had continued to deny it.

Nowadays, though, he was starting to wonder if Francis could possibly be right. He had been in love once, and it _had _sort of felt like this. _But it was just so wrong_. He had no idea what he should do, since Matthew couldn't possibly feel the same. After a few more moments, both friends still contemplating what to do about their new feelings, they simultaneously sat up and left the park.

* * *

The night before Halloween, Gilbert called up Matthew.

"Oi, Jailbird, what are you wearing tomorrow?"

"Well 'hello' to you, too," Matthew said before noticing Alfred staring at him wide-eyed before he mouthed "Girlfriend?". Matthew ignored him and took his phone out to the backyard before continuing. "What do you mean 'What are you wearing'?"

"For Halloween. Aren't you dressing up?"

"Umm, I wasn't planning to." He could hear Gilbert gasping in the background.

"Jailbird, how lame." Matthew could hear him sigh. "Don't worry, I'll bring you something tomorrow. Just come to school early enough to get changed."

"Gil, wai––" Gilbert hung up before he could even start to protest. He sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he was most likely going to look ridiculous the next day.

* * *

"Gil, this looks ridiculous," Matthew announced as he stepped out of the stall in the restroom.

"What are you talking about, Jailbird? You look awesome."

Matthew tugged at the black Guns and Roses T-shirt tucked in the black skinny jeans, held up by a studded belt and half a dozen chains.

"Put the jacket on, it'll complete the awesomeness!"

Matthew accepted the leather jacket Gilbert handed to him and shrugged it on. Gilbert was dressed similarly, but his entirely-leather outfit was much more hardcore. And tight. He fished into the duffel bag from which Matthew's clothes had come and lifted out a pair of black combat boots.

"These, too!"

Matthew laced them up as the bell rang.

"I gotta get to class!" Matthew cried out. "Thanks, Gil!" He ran out of the bathroom waving. He stopped for a moment outside the bathroom and lifted the sleeve to his nose. The jacket smelled like Gilbert. He mentally slapped himself for acting like a teenage girl again before he ran off.

He managed to land in his chair before he could be marked late. Of course, no one would have bothered with a harsh word against him that day. Everyone was too busy staring. It was making him feel a little bit unnerved. His Government teacher stuttered something and began class. Matthew noticed out of the corner of his eyes that the girls near him here scooting their desks a little closer to him.

That behavior continued all day. Girls flocked around him and he noticed a few guys even hanging off on the edges of the crowd. The crowd seemed to get bigger and bigger as the day wore on. It was rather rattling for Matthew, who had never had any attention paid to him in the past.

It was also rather upsetting for Gilbert, who found himself filled with bitter anger as he watched a few girls sidle up to Matthew and stroke his arms.

"Jealous, aren't we?" Francis cooed in his ear. Gilbert jumped.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered angrily, sending his glare back towards the trio of girls who were apparently fighting over Matthew now, who was trying to sneak away. How dare they touch him? He was seriously considering homicide.

"You just have to go over there and claim him and all of those girls will leave him alone," Francis murmured. Gilbert shoved him away. Damn Frenchman and his ability to perceive everything. Including things that Gilbert himself was just realizing.

"Shut up."

* * *

"Mattie, Mattie, I wanna press the button!" Peter, who was dressed as a sailor, chanted as they walked up to another house. They'd been out there for two hours and had filled three pillow sacks with candy, yet Peter was still going.

"Okay, Peter. Go right ahead." Peter ran ahead excitedly to press the doorbell while Gilbert and Matthew stood back a little.

"Sometimes I miss being twelve," Gilbert sighed. "Halloween was the best when we were little, don't you think?"

"Aww, how cute, a sailor!" a large woman cooed as she poured a river of candy into Peter's pillowcase.

"So what the hell are you supposed to be, a gay couple with their adopted kid?" Matthew and Gilbert turned around, both with murder in their eyes as some stupid preteen smirked at them.

"And what are you supposed to be, a kid who got beat up by saying something retarded?" Gilbert asked sweetly before decking him square in the face. He flopped over just as Peter came skipping up to them, luckily missing the punch.

"Mattie, Gilbert, my pillowcase is full," he complained.

"Then we're done trick or treating, you're not going to eat more than three bags of candy," Matthew scolded. Gilbert walked with them back to their house and then left.

* * *

A few weeks later, Matthew was sitting with Gilbert at lunch. He had been getting more attention after Halloween, but for the most part, people had forgotten him once again. He was sure glad of that. He didn't really want to be bothered by all of those annoying girls who weren't Gilbert.

"So have you gotten those CDs you guys made yet?" Gilbert asked.

"We got one sample one, but the rest of the order won't come for a few more weeks," Matthew replied.

"Do you mind if I borrow that one? I want to hear what your band sounds like."

"Sure," Matthew answered. "Just drop on by later and I'll get it for you."

Later that night, the rest of the family happened to be out when Gilbert came knocking at Matthew's door. He let his friend in.

"Hey, Jailbird, how come I've never been inside your house before?" Gilbert asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Because then you'd have to put up with Alfred."

"Oh, yeah."

"I've never been to your house either," Matthew commented as he opened the door to his and Alfred's room and started searching for their CD. He was surprised when Gilbert didn't reply. "Gil?" he asked, turning around. Gilbert was frozen, staring at the corner with burning intensity in his eyes.

"What is that?" he asked, his voice low and deliberately slow. Matthew followed his gaze to his violin case sitting innocently in the corner.

"M-my violin," he answered. And no, his voice did _not_ just tremble.

"You play the violin," Gilbert stated simply. His face was unreadable.

"Yes, I do."

Gilbert suddenly snapped into action, striding across the room and picking up the violin in its case and grabbing Matthew's hand.

"Come with me," he ordered. He dragged Matthew back downstairs and into his car, placing the violin gently on his lap. He then threw himself into the driver's seat and started to drive. A few seconds of silence passed and Matthew finally relaxed, as it seemed Gilbert wasn't angry with him. Confusion filled him as the fear left.

"Umm, Gil, where––"

"Shh!" Gilbert hissed.

"Why––"

"Because we've got an awesome serious mood going on and if we start talking we'll ruin it."

It struck Matthew as a hilarious thing to say, and so very typical of Gilbert. However, he managed to keep silent for the rest of the ride. Strangely enough, they had ended up at the ritzy, gated neighborhood that was filled with mansions. Gilbert pressed a button in his car that opened the gate and they drove through. Matthew was tempted to ask him again where they were going and how Gilbert had a key into the richest neighborhood in town but refrained.

They drove through the maze of mansions until they pulled up in front of an impressive mansion––no, it was more like a castle. Gilbert pressed another gate opener and pulled into the nearly full five-car garage of the house, then parked the car.

"C'mon," he said, finally breaking the silence. "Bring the violin."

Matthew picked up his violin case with shaking hands, following Gilbert as he exited the garage and made his way to the entrance of the beautiful house. Matthew was shocked to see that they even had a speaker system, as Gilbert headed straight for a small speaker located on the wall just next to the massive front door and pressed the button, holding it down.

"Francis, Antonio. You guys here yet?" He asked into the speaker, letting the button up, allowing them to respond.

"Yeah, we're in the inst––" Gilbert pressed the button, cutting off Francis' reply.

"I've brought someone special," he announced. "We're on our way." He let go of the button and grabbed Matthew by the hand, again. Now that his fear of Gilbert leaving him was gone, Matthew actually noticed the gesture, flushing at the contact. Gilbert didn't seem to notice and continued to drag Matthew through a maze of hallways covered in paintings until they were in front of a set of double doors. Here, Gilbert paused.

"Is something wrong?" Matthew asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Matthew, what you are about to see will shock and disturb you," Gilbert said quietly. "But please don't think any less of us after you find out."

"Find out what?" Matthew was starting to get nervous. They weren't up to anything illegal, were they? Because as much as he loved Gilbert, there was no way he was going to jail. He wouldn't last five minutes in the slammer.

"I think it's best if I just show you. I present to you, the Bad Touch Trio!" Gilbert announced as he threw open the double doors.

Matthew's jaw immediately dropped.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Thank you for the reviews and please enjoy. :)  
**

* * *

Matthew couldn't believe his eyes. The double doors had opened up to a room with the two other members of the Bad Touch Trio. Antonio was sitting on a low stool, tuning a cello. Francis had a viola tucked under his chin and was plucking the strings to test them. A piano sat between them and several other orchestra instruments were in the room. After a few moments of shock, Matthew finally managed to regain his powers of speech.

"The Bad Touch Trio is a classical music trio?" he exclaimed in pure amazement. Francis and Antonio looked at him, finally noticing that he and Gilbert had entered the room.

"Buenas tardes, Matteo!" Antonio called out cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

Gilbert slung his arm around Matthew's shoulders and answered for him. "Turns out Jailbird here is a violinist!" Gilbert announced. Francis and Antonio perked up at this news.

"Really?" Francis asked, his eyes gleaming. "You must play with us."

"That's what I brought him here for," Gilbert said. He turned towards Matthew. "We've been playing together even since we were little, but we never could find a violinist awesome enough to play with us. Well, Feli can, and my cousin, too, but Feli's always getting distracted by Ludwig, and Roderich's too much of a douche. "

"We've been looking for a violinist for _ages_," Antonio interjected, cutting off what might have become a very long rant.

"You need a violin to be able to play anything," continued Francis, "Since all classical leads are pretty much written for the violin."

"So will you play with us, Jailbird?" Gilbert pleaded. "Just try out a few pieces." By then, Matthew had recovered mostly from the surprise.

"Sure," he answered, his voice still a little shaky. "I'll try."

"Awesome!" Gilbert cried out before finally letting go of Matthew and sitting down at the piano bench. "Let's start easy; is Pachabel's Canon all right with you?" Matthew nodded and took his violin out of its case. Gilbert counted off and they started to play.

The Bad Touch Trio was amazing. Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert all handled their instruments with skill, as if they had been born with them. The music was seamless, flawless. Not a single note was missed or off-key. Yet Matthew could hear that there was something missing in their music. Even with that missing something, they were so amazing Matthew nearly forgot to join in. The second he did, it all came together. A violin was what they had been missing. Matthew hadn't thought it possible that something could be more lovely than the music they had been playing, but after he touched his bow to the strings of his violin, the music's beauty and intensity blossomed. They reached the end of the piece, the music slowly coming to a stop. There was a moment of silence.

"That was amazing, Matteo!" Antonio exclaimed.

"Magnifique!" threw in Francis.

"Incredible," breathed Gilbert, absolutely entranced.

They moved on from there, the entire evening spent in the rapture of Haydn, Bach, and Mozart. It wasn't until Ludwig interrupted (with Feli hanging off of his arm and chanting "Pasta!") to tell Gilbert that dinner was almost ready that they were even aware of how much time had passed. Matthew checked his watch and yelped.

"It's getting late, I really need to go home," he said, quickly rewrapping his violin and putting it back in its case.

"I'll drive you," Gilbert said. "But first, I need to know. Will you do it? Will you join our trio and make it a quadruple?"

"That would be a quartet, génie," corrected Francis. Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Whatever." He turned back to Matthew. "Will you?" Matthew nodded.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"Great!" Gilbert exclaimed, smiling brightly.

"I'll have to schedule it around my stupid brother's band, though," warned Matthew. Gilbert shrugged.

"We can work through that," Gilbert assured him. "Now let's go." He led Matthew back through the maze of hallways and back to the garage. They drove in silence for a few minutes.

"Hey, Mattie," Gilbert finally began, starting off the conversation they'd both been avoiding since Gilbert had first see the violin sitting in Matthew's room. "Not that I'm mad at you or anything, but why didn't you tell me that you played the violin?"

It was a good thing it was dark in the car, because Matthew was setting a new record for blushing.

"Well," he began, drawing the word out. "I just... I just..." He swallowed hard. He screwed up his eyes and called out all of his courage, drawing strength from happy memories of himself and Gilbert. "I didn't want to lose you. You're the first friend I've ever made, and I thought if you knew that I liked sissy things like classical music you wouldn't want to hang out with me." Matthew noted that against his will, he had started shaking. "Your friendship means everything to me."

Gilbert barely registered the red light ahead of him and tapped the brakes just in time, bringing them to a stop. Even with the red light reflecting on his best friend's face, Gilbert could tell he was blushing. He felt the deep feeling in the words he had just proclaimed and Gilbert felt ridiculously happy because of them.

Matthew was looking unbearably cute and flustered and Gilbert couldn't help himself. He leaned across the car and gently pressed his lips to Matthew's.

Matthew immediately stiffened and his eyes flew open in surprise. Gilbert noticed the light turn green and he broke off the kiss quickly, embarrassed. He should have known that Matthew didn't feel the same. He hit the gas pedal and they started driving again.

Matthew was still frozen in shock, and Gilbert was frantically trying to come up with an excuse that would fly for him kissing his best friend. It was a German thing? No, that was stupid. It was CPR? But Matthew was still breathing.

Or at least, he thought Matthew was still breathing. He was so still it was always a possibility that he had forgotten to breathe. Gilbert continued to wrack his brain for an idea–any idea–but kept drawing up blank. Matthew stayed stock still and didn't move until Gilbert pulled to a stop at a stop sign. The jarring motion finally startled Matthew enough to move.

"What the hell was that?" he shrieked.

"A stop sign?" Gilbert offered weakly as he pressed on the gas again and they started moving.

"I meant the kiss!"

"Late reaction, much? That was almost five minutes ago," Gilbert joked weakly.

"Just answer the question!"

"Because... I felt like it." Dammit. Where the hell had that come from? That was the shittiest excuse his brain had come up with yet. Since it was kind of sort of the truth.

"Pull over." It wasn't a request. Nervously, Gilbert pulled over, expecting Matthew to slap or punch him, storm off, and never speak to him again. He closed his eyes, waiting for the pain that was sure to come.

It didn't. Instead, he heard the clink of a seat belt being undone, a weight lean on him, and the feeling of a soft pair of lips press against his own. His eyes widened and he was too shocked to respond. After a few seconds, Matthew pulled away, blushing lightly.

"That was because _I _felt like it," he said as he leaned back into his chair and moved to put his seat belt back on. Gilbert undid his own and threw the car into park.

"Gil, what are you doing?"

"I am parking the car because, as awesome as I am," he paused, then climbed over the armrest and settled on Matthew's lap, "I still can't drive and make out with you at the same time."

Matthew barely even registered the words before their lips were crashed together again. For a moment, he was too busy trying to figure out what the hell was happening to respond, but when Gilbert started to pull back his arms moved on their own, wrapping around Gilbert's neck and pulling him back down.

Matthew had never kissed anyone before, so he let Gilbert lead him, clumsily moving his lips in time with Gilbert's. Completely of their own accord, his lips parted slightly and _oh God, was he glad he had gotten that tongue piercing!_ After what felt like a wonderful eternity, they finally broke apart, gasping for air.

Gilbert settled back slightly further on Matthew's knees as they both caught their breath. Matthew dully noted that Gilbert had a dull flush in his cheeks, standing out prominently against his normally pale skin. Gilbert cleared his throat nervously.

"Mattie, I... I like you," he said finally. Matthew felt a stupid grin spread across his face and leaned forward, pressing a short kiss to Gilbert's lips.

"I like you, too," he answered before they fell into another passionate kiss. This one lasted a bit longer before they were forced to resurface for air.

"So what does this make us now?" Matthew asked breathlessly. Gilbert was unable to answer because an obnoxious ringing sounded through the car.

"Damn," Matthew swore and he tried to reach into his pocket. "Gil, get off me for a second." Gilbert shifted and Matthew retrieved his phone, wincing at the caller ID. "Hey, Mom."

"MATTHEW WILLIAMS! WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU?" Her voice sounded so loudly even Gilbert could hear it.

"I was at a friend's house, I'm on my way home," Matthew reassured his mother before hanging up. He took one look at Gilbert and started laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"You're pouting."

"The awesome me doesn't pout!"

"Anyway, much as I'd like to stay here, I really need to be getting home before my mom sends out a search party." Another round of chuckles. "Gil, you're pouting again."

"I am not!" Gilbert insisted as he reluctantly got off of Matthew and returned to the driver's seat. He drove his new boyfriend home, sneaking in a good night kiss, before driving off.

Life was good.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Thank you so much for all the positive reviews. Please continued to enjoy this story. :)**

* * *

After Gilbert pulled into his driveway, Matthew clambered out of his car, saying goodbye to his new... boyfriend? Were they official now? Somewhat lost in thought, he had made it halfway back to the house when Gilbert rolled down his window and beckoned Matthew back to him. Matthew threw a look over his shoulder to make sure that his family wasn't in the view of the front window before walking back and getting pulled back down by his shirt collar for another breathtaking kiss through the window before he was let go and Gilbert, grinning maniacally, drove away.

Matthew spent a few moments trying to collect himself in front of the front door, both emotionally and physically. He quickly straightened out his shirt and tried (hopelessly) to comb his tangled hair with his fingers and failed spectacularly. Finally, he decided just to try to sneak in and hope his family wouldn't pay attention to his entrance, as they usually did.

No such luck.

His entire family happened to be eating dinner in the dining room, which he had to go through in order to get to the stairs. And all of their eyes were firmly trained on him as he entered the room.

"There you are!" his mother snapped. "Where in the world were you? Do you have any idea how worried I was when you wouldn't pick up your phone?"

Arthur laid a hand on his mother's shoulder to try to calm her down. "Calm down, Emily. The lad wasn't out that late. It's not even seven o' clock yet." His mother merely sniffled in response. Arthur wrapped his arms around her and murmured soothing things to her.

Since his parents were no longer paying attention to him and Peter and Alfred had already gone back to their food, Matthew slowly started inching forward toward the stairs. He was only two feet away from precious escape when Arthur turned toward him, his mother now properly sated.

"And don't think you can escape before telling us the good news."

"Good news?" Matthew repeated nervously, turning back around. "What good news?" Arthur smiled smugly.

"She finally said yes, didn't she? Don't be shy; tell us all about your new girlfriend, now that you're official." Matthew flushed tellingly. Crap.

"She said yes?" exclaimed Alfred and Peter in perfect unison.

"Of course she did," Arthur insisted. "It's written all over his face. Just look!" It vaguely occurred to Matthew that this whole scene smacked rather of a proposal.

"You're right," his mother agreed. The look of anger on her face dissipated and a happy look took over her face. "I've always wanted a girl! Tell me all about my new daughter."

"Don't you think you're jumping ahead just a little?" Matthew stammered out.

"Not at all!" his mother replied happily. "Now if I were already planning the wedding _that_ would be jumping ahead. Now tell us all about her!"

Matthew blanched. If anything was going to make coming out to his family harder than it already was, it was the fact that they remained staunchly convinced that he had a girlfriend. How on earth was he supposed to break to them that, yes, he was now in a relationship, but with another guy? How would they react? Would they not really care or would they freak out and drive him from the house? Fear of rejection had Matthew deciding that maybe it was better to not tell them.

"I've got a lot of homework," he improvised. "And I really need to get it done, maybe some other time, yeah? Yeah!" And he made his elegant escape running up the stairs.

* * *

Matthew had booted up his laptop and was in the middle of his calculus homework when Alfred returned to their room and threw himself onto his bed.

"Hey, Matt?" Matthew looked up in surprise. Alfred looked rather down and his voice sounded depressed, the total opposite of his normal exuberant self.

"Is something wrong?" Matthew asked in genuine concern. Alfred was behaving _really_ oddly.

"We're brothers, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," Matthew replied in confusion. "Why would ask that?" Alfred made a strange humming voice at the back of his throat. After struggling for a few seconds, he was finally able to force out his sentence.

"Why won't you talk to me anymore?" Matthew sat up in surprise. "Aren't we still pals? You spend all your time away from home and you don't tell me anything you would have told me before. You won't even tell me about your girlfriend. Did I do something to make you mad at me? 'Cause if I did I'm sorry." Alfred hung his head and Matthew felt a rush of guilt overwhelm him for having hurt his little brother.

"Alfred, it's not like I'm mad at you or anything like that. I just want to keep some things private," Matthew said, knowing that it was a crappy excuse. He prayed that Alfred wouldn't see through it. Alfred pouted but looked a lot better than he had at the beginning of the conversation now that he had been reassured that he hadn't done anything wrong.

"C'mon, why don't you really want to tell me? Is she ugly? 'Cause I won't judge you if she's ugly." Matthew threw a pillow at Alfred. Laughing, he continued. "Does she have a fake leg, or something? Does she look like a man? Does she have an ST––"

Alfred was suddenly interrupted when the door opened, revealing Arthur.

"You," he said, pointing at Alfred. "Get out. I need to have a talk with your brother."

Alfred pouted but reluctantly got up from his bed and left the room, closing the door behind him. Arthur sank onto the edge of Alfred's bed, looking slightly flustered. Matthew had a bad feeling about this. Arthur cleared his throat nervously.

"Matthew, we know you're a good lad, and your mother and I trust you to make wise decisions. But we also know that you're a teenager, and when you're young you tend to do daft things, especially when your hormones are out of control." Matthew was, by now, a dark shade of red knowing exactly which direction this conversation was going. Arthur was also a dark shade of red. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Anyway, now that you have a girlfriend, I just wanted to make sure that you knew about your… options. And know that you can always come to me if you need anything."

"Hey, no fair!" came a muffled voice from behind the door, cutting off Arthur. Matthew buried his face in his hands in pure embarrassment. If there was anything worse than having this conversation with his stepfather it was having his idiot brother overhear. "How come Matt gets free condoms and permission to sex up his girlfriend and not me?" Alfred whined through the wood.

Matthew hadn't thought it was possible for either him or Arthur to flush any darker, but he was proved wrong when Alfred's statement caused both of their faces to heat up several more degrees.

"Because he's not underage, for one thing!" Arthur shouted back through the door at Alfred.

"That never stopped you," Alfred muttered quietly. Unfortunately, not quietly enough for Arthur to not hear. Slowly, he stood up and opened the door, a murderous look on his face. Alfred, who was lying on the carpet with his ear pressed to the door, paled.

"What did you just say?"

Alfred gulped. "I said…I'm-going-to-spend-the-night-at-Yong-Soo'sBYE!" He jumped up and shot down the stairs and out the door. Arthur sighed as Alfred disappeared and then left the room. Matthew was exceedingly grateful that the embarrassing talk was now over. Without a doubt it had been the most awkward moment in his relationship with his stepfather. Matthew opened his laptop to finish his homework in an attempt to beat down the flush that was still in his face. He was typing out an English assignment when a little _ping!_ sound alerted him to an IM which had arrived from Gilbert.

_hey jailbird. _Matthew smiled at the message.

_hey gil, _he replied. After a few seconds another message popped up.

_u wanna hang out tomorrow? _

_Sure, _Matthew typed back.

_awesome lazer tag ok w/u?_

_ive never been before._

_DDD: _Matthew couldn't help but laugh when he saw Gilbert's reply.

_sounds fun though, _he typed quickly.

_ok ill pick u up at 12_

_ok see you then._ Matthew felt giddy with excitement. A real date with Gilbert. He couldn't wait. Another _ping!_ sounded as Matthew received another IM.

_btw antonio and francis sort of figured it out._

_figured what out? _Matthew typed in confusion.

_that were dating._ Matthew knew he should have been embarrassed that people knew about him and Gilbert but he was too ecstatic to see the words straight from Gilbert's mouth. Or rather fingers. They were officially dating. He mentally scolded himself for being such a teenage girl. He really needed to stop doing that.

_they wont tell anyone right?_ he finally replied.

_nah theyre cool with it._ Matthew breathed a sigh of relief.

_they wont stop teasing me about u :( _Matthew could just imagine Gilbert right now, bent over in front of his keyboard with his rare but adorable pout. They kept messaging each other until late that night, Matthew very glad that Alfred had gone to spend the night at Yong Soo's house, because that left him free from the teasing and questioning he knew was most likely going to start soon.

* * *

The next day, after a quick lunch of cheeseburgers, Gilbert took Matthew out to play lazer tag for the first time in his life. During the ride to the lazer tag place, Gilbert explained how the game went. When they arrived, there weren't too many people there, only a few other guys and two girls. Gilbert and Matthew signed up at the front counter for two games and made code names for themselves. Gilbert named himself Awesome, to nobody's surprise. Gilbert insisted that Matthew take the code name Jailbird and he relented. It was a pretty cool nickname, anyway. They gathered with the rest of the people there as a bored employee informed them of the rules, no climbing, no covering sensors, etc.

"If you get shot, your pack will vibrate to let you know and if you check your gun, it'll tell you who shot you," the young man droned. "When you get shot, your gun will stop working for three seconds, then you can start shooting again. Play safe and have fun." After the introduction of the rules, they were let into the antechamber containing all of the equipment. There were heavy vests with special guns attached and sensors that the players were supposed to shoot at to score points. The packs were heavy and Matthew struggled to get his on. Gilbert, who had noticed, lifted it easily over Matthew's head and helped him slip it on. The referee let them in to the room and the game began.

The "battlefield" was very odd-looking. The walls were all painted black with neon designs on them, shining from the black light in the arena. Several levels existed, and the painted walls formed a maze in which to hide. The people split up as soon as they entered the arena. Gilbert grabbed his arm and hustled him to a higher level.

"I'll protect you," he declared as they staked out a base from which to attack the other players. Matthew smiled at Gilbert, who smiled back. It might have been awkward for the both of them, but their new relationship was pleasant.

Gilbert had excellent aim and quickly racked up a high score while Matthew, who was obviously new to the game, ended up with a very low one. Eventually, the other players ganged up on Gilbert and chased them from their hideout on the top level. They found safety from the other players' relentless firing hiding in a corner of the arena. When the firing ceased and Gilbert was sure the others had lost sight of them, he leaned over and kissed a very surprised Matthew. He couldn't help himself. He was just too cute with his face flushed with excitement and exercise. Matthew, after recovering from the surprise kiss, responded. Suddenly, his pack vibrated and Gilbert ran away laughing. Matthew looked at his gun to see that he had just been shot by Awesome.

"Hey!" he yelled out in mock anger and chased after Gilbert, shooting at him relentlessly.

In the end, Gilbert ended up with the highest score and Matthew the lowest, but he didn't care. He'd had too much fun just being with Gilbert.

**

* * *

A/N That IM scene **_**killed**_** me internally. I hate bad grammar more than anything. I'm a secret agent of the Grammar Police, you see. Now I have to arrest myself.**

***By the way, has anyone else noticed that my chapters keep getting looonger and loooooooonger?**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I've added an original character to the story to represent Vietnam. Her role in this story is minimal and she won't appear very much. I hope that this is acceptable to everyone and that you all enjoy it. Thank you all so much again for the wonderful reviews. :)**

* * *

When Matthew returned home after his (very enjoyable) date with Gilbert, he was surprised to see a large moving truck taking up most of the small street on which he lived. Bewildered, he entered his house.

"Do you know what's going on next door?" he called out. He found his brother in the living room, along with Yong Soo. Alfred looked up from where they were playing some strange video game (which most likely belonged to Yong Soo).

"Well, you're late for practice, for one thing," Alfred snapped. Matthew looked around and noticed Heracles was also there, as well as all of their instruments. He quickly wracked his brain. He didn't remember Alfred ever telling him about that.

"You never told me we had practice," Matthew finally said.

"I sent you a text last night," answered Alfred as he turned back to the game, shooting some strange sort of monster with particular violence. Matthew dug into his pockets and retrieved his phone. There was the telltale text, dated from the day before. He had been so distracted by the prospect of a date with Gilbert he hadn't even noticed last night and he had been so preoccupied with Gilbert earlier he hadn't checked that day either.

"Oh," Matthew said slowly, feeling rather guilty. "Sorry, I'll go get my bass and–"

"Don't bother," Alfred interrupted, with an edge in his voice. "Heracles has to leave in," he checked his watch, "ten minutes so there's no point in trying. Be on time next practice." Matthew reeled back in shock at the hostility in his brother's voice. Alfred had never spoken to him like that before in their entire lives. He felt like he had been slapped in the face. What on earth had he done to make Alfred so angry? He'd been late to practice before and Alfred had never gotten so upset before. Heracles stood up in the awkward silence.

"I have to go now," he said calmly before going over to the front door. He opened it then stopped. "There's a truck," he stated simply. Alfred and Yong Soo jumped up from the couch and ran over to the window. Even in his daze, Matthew had to marvel at just how quickly the both of them could be distracted.

"Hey, you're right!" Alfred yelled, as if only he could affirm that there was, indeed, a truck outside.

"Look's like you've got new neighbors," Heracles announced. The house next to theirs had been empty for years ever since their Dutch neighbor had been arrested for selling drugs. Now, it seemed someone was finally moving in. They all moved onto the front porch, waiting to see who was going to show up. An older Caucasian couple exited the house and made their way to the truck. Yong Soo groaned.

"Another boring white family. I hate being the only Asian around here."

"Don't forget Kiku," Heracles added.

"Yeah, but–" Yong Soo's reply died on his tongue as an Asian girl about their age exited the house as well. Yong Soo's and Alfred's jaws dropped at the same time, as if on cue.

"Holy hell," Alfred breathed.

The girl was of medium height with gentle but alluring curves. A long, brown ponytail hung nearly to her waist. She was wearing a green dress, and was likely one of the most beautiful girls any of them had ever seen. In perfect unison, Alfred and Yong Soo took a step forward. Both noticed. A short struggle ensued, ending with Yong Soo putting Alfred in a headlock.

"She's Asian, that means she's _mine_!" Yong Soo grunted as he tried to choke Alfred.

"She's _my_ neighbor! That makes her mine!" Alfred gasped, struggling to fee himself from Yong Soo's iron grip.

"She's my neighbor, too! I have double claim!"

Matthew finally stepped forward and broke up the fight by smacking them both in the back of their heads. They retreated to a few feet apart from each other, both glaring at Matthew.

"Matthew, you have the least right to claim her, you already have a girlfriend," Alfred growled.

"Neither of you can just claim her! She's not an object!" Matthew said angrily, ignoring Alfred's comment about his "girlfriend". "You're both such idiots."

By this time, the new family had retrieved several boxes and was taking them back in the house. Matthew waved.

"Hello," he called out. The girl smiled at him and waved back, even with an armful of box. Yong Soo whistled.

"Now I see how you have a girlfriend, that was smooth," he complimented. Matthew glared at him.

"I was just being friendly."

"Suuure you were," Yong Soo replied. Matthew sighed and shook his head. The girl reappeared and approached the fence that separated their yards.

"Hello," she said shyly. "My name is Linh Pham. My family and I just moved here from Arizona."

Smoothly, Alfred made his way over to the fence.

"I'm Alfred. Alfred Jones," he said before offering his hand. The girl shook it, smiling up at him. Matthew was surprised. He had had no idea that Alfred possessed that level of ability to sweet talk girls. With charm like that, he would have figured Alfred would have had a girlfriend long ago. Before he had time to ponder this puzzling fact, Yong Soo quickly joined Alfred, shoving him out of the way.

"Im Yong Soo, at your service," he said, taking Linh's hand and shaking it as well. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Linh!" called out the older man, presumably her father. "We still have a lot of things to unpack."

"Sorry, Alfred," Linh said, smiling at Alfred. "I have to go now. See you later," she turned away and noticed Yong Soo out of the corner of her eyes. "Bye to you, too," she said before running off and joining her father, who glared at them. When they were out of sight, Alfred smirked at Yong Soo.

"Don't even start," he said warningly to Alfred, who only smirked harder.

* * *

December was a month for new faces. Not only did Alfred befriend Linh (Matthew teased him constantly about her), but a new person joined Matthew's rival hockey team. Both teams were outside of school, and played against each other and teams from neighboring cities. The new addition to the rival team Matthew's team played against the most was a boy Matthew's age who had recently moved to their town from Russia. Ivan Braginkski had been privately home schooled until then to improve his English, but now that he was proficient enough in the language to get by, he joined both the rival hockey team and their school.

The instant they met, Alfred and Ivan had hated each other. This was mostly due to the fact that Ivan had been placed in the same homeroom as Linh and their teacher had asked her to help Ivan if he had any trouble with English. Ivan, who had noticed how jealous Alfred got when he first saw them together, had since then purposely spent more time with Linh to drive him crazy. And it was working.

Matthew didn't have any particular problems with Ivan, especially because Ivan really was good at hockey. In a few years he could probably join a professional league if he wanted to. Matthew, who had a tendency to downplay his own achievements, was also good enough to possibly play professionally. This mutual respect was probably why he rather liked the Russian at first, even if he was purposely riling up his brother. Or maybe that was why he liked the Russian so much at first. Alfred's reactions to his taunting were hilarious, and left Matthew with even more grounds to tease him about Linh. All in all, he had a rather good first impression of the new student.

That was, at least, until January, when they played their first game against each other. Ivan had invited Linh to come see it, which meant that Alfred was also there, along with the rest of their family. Gilbert, who had still never seen a hockey game, also decided to come, Francis and Antonio tagging along. The Bad Touch Trio happened to be sitting on the opposite side of the stadium from Matthew's family, which was probably a good thing.

The game started and Matthew quickly gained possession of the puck, easily scoring a point. The game continued, neither side getting a major lead. Matthew and Ivan both were the best players on their respective teams, and so ended up with the puck in their possession most of the time. The game continued, both teams tied. Finally, Ivan stole the puck from Matthew and had nearly reached the goal when Matthew body checked him into the wall, stealing the puck and scoring a point, breaking the tie.

After that, the game got dirty. Several penalties were assigned to both teams as the player's moves got more and more suspicious. Finally, the last straw came when Ivan blatantly tripped Matthew with his hockey stick. Gilbert was out of his seat and halfway to the aisle, fully intending to go onto the ice himself and beat up the bastard who dared hurt his boyfriend when something rather surprising happened.

Matthew threw out his own hockey stick and tripped Ivan back. In a split second, they disappeared in a flurry of fists and kicks. Gilbert gaped at the scene before him. His gentle, sweet boyfriend was in a fist fight. With a tall and rather scary looking Russian who looked as if he could destroy Matthew with his pinky finger alone.

What was even more surprising to everyone at the game was that, despite the fact that he was much smaller, Matthew appeared to be winning. He had gotten on top of Ivan and was pummeling him mercilessly. This was a side of Matthew that Gilbert had never seen before. A _hot_ side. The referee finally managed to break the fight up and sent both of them to the penalty box. Francis leaned forward and tugged Gilbert back into his seat.

"You'd better close your mouth before flies get in," teased Francis. "And wipe the drool from your face." Absentmindedly, Gilbert swept his hand across his mouth, effectively wiping it away.

"I had no idea Matteo could get like that!" exclaimed Antonio. Gilbert was still too in shock from the fight to reply.

The game ended before either Ivan or Matthew could get back in, but Matthew's team still won. After the game, Matthew had to help his team clean up from the game so everyone had left by the time Matthew approached Gilbert, seemingly as if nothing had happened, despite the large but shallow cut on his face and the bloodstains in his uniform. They made their way to Gilbert's car, intending to play with the Bad Touch Trio/Quartet after the game and subsequent cleanup.

"Good game, wasn't it?" Matthew said cheerfully. "So, what do you think of hockey?"

Gilbert pondered how he should respond to the question for a few moments.

"It was pretty awesome," he admitted as he unlocked the car and climbed in. "But to be honest, I had forgotten some of the things you told me about hockey. Like the whole body check thing." He smirked as he drew closer to Matthew. "I think you should go over that part again. In detail." Mathew smiled back at him and slid his arms around his boyfriend.

"I think you might be right," he agreed before closing the distance between their lips. Internally, Gilbert grinned.

Hockey was now officially his favorite sport.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Holy crap this chapter ended up long! And to all the people who suspected that Linh was Vietnam, you were right! Thanks again for all of your reviews and please enjo**y!

* * *

There were two reasons why time seemed to be constantly moving in fast forward mode, Matthew decided. Not only was it his senior year, which already made things seem as if they were going faster, but his relationship with Gilbert was speeding time up as well. Before he knew it, it was already February.

"Hey, Matt! What're you doing for your girlfriend on Valentine's Day?" asked Alfred one day when he and Matthew were both alone in their room.

"Why do you want to know?" Matthew asked in suspicion. Gilbert had already told him to be sure not to make plans that night (as if he would) so he knew he and Gilbert were doing something, but he had yet to figure out what. He had still gotten him a gift though, one that he really hoped Gilbert would like.

"I wanted to compare my idea with yours," Alfred explained. "I'm doing something for Linh," he admitted quietly, blushing slightly.

"Really? What?" Matthew asked, genuinely intrigued.

"I got her a stuffed elephant and I'm going to write the card in Vietnamese," Alfred said proudly. "I know this guy in my math class who can speak and write it, so I'm going to ask him for help."

"That's a good idea," Matthew admitted. "Are you sure she speaks Vietnamese though? Wasn't she adopted pretty young?"

"Well, she was five, but yeah, but I already asked her a while ago, and she can speak it," Alfred said, sounding very proud of himself. "So, tell me what you're up to?"

"I'll tell you after," Matthew said quickly. Alfred sulked about it but made Matthew promise to tell him every detail after his Valentine's date.

* * *

On the actual day, Matthew had to admit to feeling very lonely. Gilbert hadn't shown up at school and Matthew had no idea where he was. Usually, Gilbert would tell him if he wasn't going to show up that day, and it was rather disconcerting that he hadn't given Matthew a word of warning. Matthew couldn't help but wonder if Gilbert had grown tired of him already and was dumping him.

At lunch, he sat miserably with the rest of the group, staring at his lunch, not even having enough energy to try to eat it. Antonio and Lovino were mysteriously absent. Francis, who was sitting next to him, chuckled.

"It must've worked out pretty well, then," he murmured to himself.

"What?" asked Matthew. Francis suddenly noticed that he had just said his thoughts out loud and turned to Matthew.

"Ah, Matthieu, I was merely talking about our dear friends Antonio and Lovino." Francis' eyes literally sparkled as he spoke. "Antonio was planning on serenading Lovino outside his bedroom window this morning. It must've gone pretty well since neither of them made it to school." Francis grinned, laughing quietly. Matthew shuddered slightly at the thought of what had most likely transpired, if Francis was right.

Which was rather odd, as Lovino always seemed exceedingly annoyed by Antonio's presence. Then again, what did he know about love? His boyfriend had ditched him on Valentine's Day, after all. Suddenly, Matthew needed maple syrup.

"I'll be right back," he said before heading off to the secret maple syrup stash he kept hidden in his locker. He was almost there when he heard someone calling out his name.

"Jailbird!" Or rather, nickname. He turned around.

"Hey, Gil," he said. Gilbert was running down the hall toward him, rather breathless, finally making it over to his boyfriend and leaning against the lockers lined up against the wall.

"Sorry my awesomeness wasn't here earlier," Gilbert panted. "I ordered something awesome but the idiots screwed it up so I didn't get it until this morning and then I had to hang around until they'd finished the engraving and it was just a huge pain in the ass," Gilbert finished, more breathless than he had been when he began.

"Calm down, it's all right," Matthew reassured him, deciding not to mention that he _had_ been a little worried (and a little hurt) when he hadn't seen Gilbert all day. Gilbert finally started breathing properly again and after a few moments, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a little box, which he handed to Matthew.

"I got this especially with you and your brother in mind."

"Really?" Matthew asked as he opened the little box. It contained a watch, a rather nice one, nestled amongst padding.

"Since your brother keeps chewing you out for being late to band practice, I figured a watch would help you avoid that," Gilbert explained proudly. Matthew smiled back.

"You know, you're the reason I'm always late for practice." Gilbert smirked.

"Can I help it if you can't resist my awesomeness?" Matthew rolled his eyes playfully before taking the watch out of its box and wrapping it around his wrist.

"Wait, read the inscription. I had to wait two fucking hours at the jeweler's to get it done, so you better read it." Oddly enough, Gilbert's face was a light pink color and he was avoiding Matthew's eyes. It wasn't often that their relationship got Gilbert to blush, or look flustered in any way, so Matthew took a good, long look at the rare and adorable expression on his boyfriend's face before flipping over the watch. The words "Für mein Liebling" were engraved in tiny, cursive script on the back of the watch. Emotion overcame him and he threw his arms around Gilbert, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Gil," he murmured. "I love it." Gilbert hugged him back just as tightly, enjoying the look of pure happiness on Matthew' face. Matthew couldn't see it, but Gilbert had an expression of smugness on his face. He and his gift-picking-out skills were awesome. Much to Gilbert's regret, Matthew suddenly wriggled away from him.

"I have something for you, too," he said, reaching into his sweatshirt pocket, drawing out a small wrapped present. "I hope you like it," he added. Gilbert accepted the little package, unwrapping it quickly, revealing a new wallet.

"I noticed that your other wallet was falling apart," Matthew explained. "And there's something else inside." Gilbert opened the wallet to find that a few small pictures of them together had been tucked into a clear plastic sleeve.

"It's not as nice as yours, but––" Matthew's uncertainties were cut off by Gilbert's lips. Without even thinking, he eagerly kissed him back for a few seconds before he remembered that they were still at school.

"Wait!" he cried out, trying to push Gilbert away. "What if someone sees?"

"Everyone's in the cafeteria anyway," Gilbert assured him. "They should be distracted by Feli. He's serenading Ludwig as we speak."

"He's what?" Gilbert nodded.

"He wrote the song himself. Last time I checked, it was about wurst and beer, but you can still tell how much he cares. Everyone should be watching them," he murmured the last part, leaning closer to Matthew. "Besides, I want to thank you for your awesome gift." Since every person in the whole school _was_ most likely watching Feliciano sing a love song to Ludwig in public, Matthew gave in, allowing Gilbert to kiss him again. He was surprised when Gilbert suddenly broke away.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Mathew asked, a slight panicked undertone accompanying his voice. If there was someone there who had seen them, they were both in some very hot water.

"A clicking sound..." Gilbert muttered. A look of comprehension suddenly dawned on his face and he sighed. "All right, Elizaveta. Get out here." A sulking girl, Elizaveta?, emerged from behind a corner, clutching both a camera and a cell phone in her hands. She had long light-brown hair, pulled back with flower barrettes and wore a modest dress.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked sullenly.

"'Cause I could hear you trying to not squeal," Gilbert replied. He stuck out his hand. "Hand it over. I'm deleting our pictures." Matthew finally was able to breathe again, with the prospect of the destruction of the pictures in sight. He didn't even know what he would do if word of this got around to his brother. Elizaveta pulled back a little at Gilbert's words, scowling.

"No way! These are some of the cutest shots I've gotten today, even cuter than Heracles and Kiku and even better that that Swedish middle school teacher and his student teacher!" Elizaveta insisted, hugging the camera to her chest tightly. Even with his worry about his secret getting out, Matthew had to take note of her words.

"Heracles and Kiku are a couple?" he asked in surprise.

"Yep!" Elizaveta said cheerfully. She rifled through the camera and found the picture she was looking for. "See? Aren't they cute?" She passed the camera to Matthew and he caught a glimpse of Heracles kissing a blushing Kiku on the cheek before the camera was yanked out of his hands by Gilbert, who grinned evilly.

"Gil, no!" wailed Elizaveta, who threw herself at Gilbert to try to get her camera back. Gilbert merely held the camera above her head, since he was quite a bit taller than her. Matthew felt a strange feeling assault him as his nick name for Gilbert was said by another girl who just happened to be hanging off of his boyfriend. "Please don't!" Her eyes filled with moisture. "Please? For me?" Matthew was surprised to see Gilbert lower the camera slightly, a light pink dusting his cheeks. That feeling was back and Matthew now knew what it was: jealousy. He swallowed back his anger.

However, he felt a lot better when Elizaveta suddenly kicked Gilbert in the knee.

"Jesus!" Gilbert swore as he dropped the camera. Elizaveta caught it with ease.

"Ha!" she crowed in victory.

"Elizaveta," Gilbert started, his voice much more serious than it had been before. "You can't show those pictures to anyone. Matthew's family would flip out if they knew. Please, Elizaveta? For old times' sake?"

Elizaveta hummed as she contemplated his request.

"I'll keep this a secret," she said, finally. "If you promise to do something for me in return."

"What?" asked Matthew. Anything was fine with him, as long as it meant Alfred didn't find out about Gilbert.

"You have to take pictures for me," Elizaveta declared happily, clapping her hands together in glee. "Any kind I want."

"No," Gilbert said quickly, cutting off the affirmative response Matthew was about to form. "We won't do just anything. I'm not letting you take pornographic pictures of my Mattie." Elizaveta looked torn between bemoaning the loss of steamy pictures and squealing over the sheer cuteness of Gilbert trying to protect his boyfriend. The latter won.

"Fine," she huffed.

"And we're not stripping! We're keeping our pants on."

"C'mon! Don't be such a prude! At least down to boxers!"

"No!" Gilbert held firm. "Shirtless, fine, but nothing else! And we're only taking these pictures once!" Elizaveta made a disappointed sound.

"You two don't know how to have fun," she whined. "But all right. I'll keep your secret." A look of both realization and guilt suddenly crossed her face and she took a deep breath, facing Gilbert and Matthew. "I have something to confess to you," she admitted. "I kinda sorta already sent a picture of you guys to Kiku."

"Why the hell did you do that?" exclaimed Gilbert in a rage, while Matthew turned white.

"We always do that!" Elizaveta insisted, backing up a few paces. "We always send each other pictures of cute couples, but Kiku never shows them to anyone else. But if if makes you feel better, I'll tell him to make sure nobody sees it." Elizaveta pulled out her phone and typed out a quick text. "See? No harm done."

"You better hope so," Gilbert growled. "Or else I just might have to tell your precious Roderich all about the pictures you have in your computer." Elizaveta's eyes widened in fear.

"You wouldn't."

"I would." Elizaveta glared at Gilbert.

"I'll call you about the pictures later," she said tersely before turning around and walking off in the same direction that she had come from. Gilbert and Matthew were left in an awkward silence that was mercifully broken by the bell signaling the end of lunch.

"I'll see you later tonight, right?" Gilbert asked before students could come rushing back into the hallways.

"Yeah," Matthew replied, smiling weakly at Gilbert before going of to his next class. He was distracted most of his last class, however, mostly worrying and praying that Kiku was able to keep the picture a secret.

* * *

During Matthew and Gilbert's exchange with Elizaveta, Alfred had been hanging out with his friends, talking about nothing in particular, when Kiku's phone suddenly went off. He flipped open his phone and started flushing a dark color at the sight of whatever it was that had been sent to him. Heracles looked over Kiku's shoulder and quickly drew back in shock. Now this was too interesting for Alfred to ignore.

"Hey, what is it?" Alfred asked before reaching out to take the phone, smiling devilishly. "Sexting somebody?"

"No!" shouted Kiku. "Please don't look!"

Nothing could have piqued his curiosity more. Alfred lunged at Kiku in an attempt to grab the phone. They wrestled for it, and Alfred eventually managed to get the cell phone away from Kiku, who was still a very vibrant shade of dark red.

"Please give that back, Alfred!" Kiku demanded desperately. Alfred shot him a strange look.

"What's up with you? What text did you get that was so weird that...you..." His words completely trailed off as he stared at the message Kiku had just received. It was a picture of his brother, Matthew, _kissing_ some strange...guy? And looking like he sure was enjoying it.

"W-what the hell?" he stammered as the picture mocked him straight to his face. Matthew was willingly kissing some guy! When had he even become gay? Dread filled Alfred as he realized that this weird guy was the one Matthew had been spending all of his time with. This was his mystery "girlfriend". His own brother had been keeping such a huge secret from him. He was frozen in shock and pain, the others giving his strange looks, until Kiku's phone went off again and a text filled the screen.

_btw dont let anyone see that pic matt absolutely does not want his brother to find out_

All of the surprise and hurt filling Alfred drained away in an instant, replacing themselves with an uncontrollable rage. He stood up abruptly and took off.


	14. Chapter 14

**WARNING! This chapter contains some mature-ish language and stuff so be warned. I didn't use the words I used to offend anybody so please don't take offense with me. **

**I also want to thank my good friend theseventhdeadlysin who helped me out so much with this chapter. You are awesome. Prussia-status awesome. Another big thank you goes to the also-Prussia-y Princess Muffin who has also helped me out greatly with the plot of this story. Another thank you goes to all of you who have reviewed my story. Your reviews inspire me to write more. :)**

* * *

All throughout his last class, Matthew could do nothing but worry about the picture. He kept imagining every scenario of what would happen if anybody ever saw that, especially Alfred. He paid absolutely no attention to any of the words coming out of his teacher's mouth, very much preoccupied with thoughts of his brother.

Matthew was extremely relieved when the last bell rang and he was finally able to go home. His mother had offered to pick up Peter that day so that he could spend time with his "girlfriend" which let him head straight home. Matthew started the walk home still thinking of nothing but Alfred and what would happen if he ever found out. He trusted Kiku not to tell anybody or show anyone the picture but he was still terrified that somehow it would get out that he was dating Gilbert. In which case he was in serious trouble.

It wasn't so much that Matthew distrusted his family or purposely wanted to keep them out of his life; he loved them and wanted them to be a part of his life. He was just afraid that they wouldn't accept him if they knew he was gay. And that was what would hurt him the worst. That fear was what prevented him from telling his family.

Matthew suddenly realized that, during his musing, he had managed to wander home. He gulped; his front door had never looked so intimidating before. His hands shook as he fit the key into the lock and slowly opened the door. He walked through the front door, tense. Nothing happened. Nervously, Matthew made his way to the stairs.

"Hello, Matt." He spun around at the sound of Alfred's voice, who was sitting in one of the living room chairs, leaning on his elbows. His face was unreadable, due to his clasped hands partially obstructing his face.

"Alfred," Matthew said, anxiously. Alfred lowered the hands that were obscuring the lower half of his face to reveal that he was glaring at Matthew and his heart sank in his chest. He knew he had been found out. "Um, how did things go with Linh?" he forced out, trying desperately to distract his brother and keep Alfred from ever saying the horrible words he knew were coming. Alfred stood up from the chair he had been sitting on; in a flash, he was in Matthew's face.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Every last vestige of hope left Matthew.

"Tell you what?" Matt asked, knowing exactly what Alfred was talking about and making one last pathetic stab at innocence.

"Don't act all innocent with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about!" Alfred shouted. "That you're a fag."

"Alfred, don't––"

"You and that asshole, both, you're fucking fags!"

"Alfred, you don't under––"

"I don't understand?" Alfred laughed. "What the hell is there to understand? You've been lying to us all and telling us you had a girlfriend when this whole time you were really screwing around with that faggot!"

"Don't call him that!" Matthew snarled.

"I'll call him whatever the fuck I want!" Alfred exclaimed. "And if he's a fucking fag then I'll call him a fucking fag."

"Leave Gilbert out of this!" Matthew shouted back, unable to control himself. He pulled back his anger, knowing that screaming at his brother wouldn't help anything. All he could do was try to rationalize with him. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but––"

"But what?" Alfred interrupted. "You thought I couldn't keep your secret? That I would tell Mom and Arthur?" Matthew was silent. Alfred was so incensed he didn't think anything he could possibly say would placate him. "_Why?_"

"Alfred, listen to me, please, I never wanted to keep this from you."

"You could have fooled me," Alfred said coldly.

"I didn't tell you because I was ashamed of––"

"And you should be. Two guys together, that's disgusting. You _should_ be ashamed that you're a faggot, that you like guys more than girls. It's a sin. It's sick!" Alfred spat out. The anger that Matthew had been trying so hard to hold off was starting to break through in him.

"Would you let me talk?" he cried out, frustration with his brother starting to overcome him.

"Talk! Talk with that dirty mouth, after it's been on him!" Alfred laughed darkly. "So now that the cat's out of the bag, why don't you _talk_ to me about all the sinful things you two have done," his brother screamed at him, placing his hands square on Matthew's chest and shoving him, hard.

"We haven't—" Matt gasped out as his back hit the wall painfully. He took a step back from his brother, fear mixing in with his anger.

"There's no use in lying, Matthew," sneered his brother, closing the distance Matthew had put between them, Matthew scrambling to get away. "You think that I can't figure out for myself what you and that druggie have been up to? "

"I'm telling you we haven't––"

"So how many diseases has that slut given you?" Alfred cut him off. "You'd have almost anything with all the times you've gone off with him! I would love to know just how many times you leave your family to go and fuck that sick faggot!"

"Why won't you listen to me, I am––" Matthew yelled in frustration.

"Listen to you, the dirty fag who's disgraced his family?" Alfred questioned. This was the last straw for Matthew. It was painfully clear to him that there was no way he would be able to talk this over with Alfred. He was just too angry. Instead of answering, he simply turned around and started up the stairs.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Away," Matthew replied. He didn't think he could stop himself from trying to strangle Alfred if he said anything more.

"Fine! Crawl back to that faggot! Don't come here when he throws you away!"

"Don't call him that," Matthew said, a dangerous undertone lacing his words. "His name is Gilbert!" he shouted before slamming the door to their bedroom shut. Fuming, he grabbed a duffel bag lying under his bed and started throwing his stuff into it. He could accept Alfred insulting him; he _had_ kept a huge secret from him. But Gilbert had done nothing wrong and it pissed Matthew off to no end that Alfred would insult him for something that wasn't at all his fault. There was no way he could possibly stay in this house after today. Not after the way Alfred had treated him and Gilbert.

"Who the bloody hell is Gilbert?"

"What on earth is going on here?"

"Shit," Matthew swore to himself as he heard his mother and stepfather's muffled voices from downstairs. He hadn't even noticed them coming in. How much had they heard? He was sure Alfred would tell them everything he thought he knew even if they had missed the actual confrontation. Matthew started cramming his things into the bag in a complete frenzy, trying only to get as much of his stuff as possible before he was forcibly ejected from the house.

Matthew forced himself not to listen to the words Alfred was saying downstairs, but he could hear the angry shouting and knew that his brother had outed him to the whole family. Finally, he grabbed his laptop and threw it into his bag. Everything else he could live without. He hurled the bag over his shoulder and snatched up his violin case before barreling down the stairs, dreading to hear the disappointment and anger from his stepfather, whom he looked up to, and his mother, whom he loved. He sped around the corner and was immediately accosted once more.

"Matthew!" his mother cried out as soon as she saw him, on the verge of tears. "Please, tell me this isn't true!" she begged him, grabbing him by the jacket. "Please tell me you're not a gay!"

"It's true." Somehow, those words had been more difficult to say than any of the others. Matthew could almost see his mother's heart break as she let him go and stumbled back, sobbing. Peter was staring at him in absolute confusion from where he was hidden behind his father and Matthew could see the revulsion on Arthur's face. Ducking his head, he tried to leave, but his mother was standing right in front of the door.

"Mattie, where are you going? Why is Mattie leaving? Did he do something wrong?" Peter asked, clutching tightly at Arthur's sweater.

"Yes," Arthur answered him. Anger boiled in him and Matthew simply couldn't take it for a second longer. He pushed his mother aside roughly and threw open the door, finally exiting the house.

"Matthew, wait!" his mother cried out, reaching out to grab his hand.

"Emily, stop it!" Arthur ordered, pulling her back inside the house.

"You let go of me!"

Their argument followed Matthew as he walked away. It wasn't until he had gone a few streets away that he was finally able to clear the sound of his family's fury from his head. He sank down onto a bus bench, slumping against the wood, completely drained of energy. He had imagined what would happen if his family ever found out about Gilbert but the worst case scenario he had imagined hadn't even come close to the horror of what had just happened. Glumly, he pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial for Gilbert. It rang a few times before he picked up.

"Hey Jailbird, what's up?" The sound of Gilbert's voice, calm and normal, not raised in anger and disgust, was such a relief Matthew choked up and couldn't speak. "Mattie?"

"I need help," Matthew finally said.

"Where are you? Tell me and I'll come pick you right up." Matthew told him which bus stop he was at and after promising to be right there, Gilbert hung up. Matthew put his phone back in his pocket, staring dejectedly at the black asphalt of the street. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before Gilbert pulled up in front of him. Jarred from his thoughts, he picked up his things and climbed into the car. From the first second he had heard Matthew's voice, Gilbert had known that something was seriously wrong. Now that they could finally talk face-to-face, he dove right into the problem.

"Mattie, what happened?" There was a moment of silence.

"Alfred found out about us," Matthew finally said hollowly, clutching the duffel bag for comfort. "And told the whole family."

"Shit," Gilbert hissed. "Did they kick you out?" Matthew shook his head.

"I left before they could." Matthew's voice cracked and he buried his face in his hands again. "I don't have a home, Gil, what am I going to do?"

"You're going to come live with me," Gilbert answered fiercely as he threw the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. Even with his current turmoil, Matthew managed to clutch at the handle of the car door as he grasped for the seat belt and quickly fastened it.

"Gil," Matthew said when he no longer feared being thrown from the car. "A-are you sure?"

"Of course," Gilbert insisted. "I'm way too awesome to leave you with nowhere to go."

"Won't your parents care?" Matthew asked. Gilbert shrugged.

"I haven't even seen them in months. They don't give a crap what I do."

"Oh," Matthew said quietly. Gilbert picked up on his discomfort.

"Don't feel bad," he insisted. "I don't care. I can do whatever the hell I want."

Matthew decided to let the subject drop. Instead, he let Gilbert talk about some new video game he had recently bought as he drove them home. He followed Gilbert quietly until they had reached an unoccupied room in the mansion.

"You can stay here," Gilbert told Matthew as he set Matthew's bag on a dresser. He set the violin that he hadn't once let go of down next to the dresser. "My awesome room is right across the hall so if you need anything you can come find me." Matthew nodded. He still didn't feel much like talking. Even though just seeing Gilbert and knowing how much he cared about him made him feel much better about what had happened earlier with Alfred, he still felt like shit overall. No matter how hard he tried, the scene kept replaying over and over in his mind. He sank onto the edge of the bed completely unaware of the fact that Gilbert was still talking.

"Mattie?" Matthew looked up in surprise to see Gilbert leaning in closely. "You okay?"

"Not really."

"That was a pretty stupid question," Gilbert agreed before he joined Matthew on the bed, wrapping his arms around him. Matthew sighed softly and leaned into the embrace. "D'you wanna talk about it or something?" Matthew shook his head but instead clutched at Gilbert more tightly. Gilbert could feel Matthew shaking against him and wetness on his shirt from Matthew's silent tears. Awkwardly, Gilbert started rubbing Matthew's back. He really sucked at comforting people. He'd only had nannies as a kid who had never really comforted him when he was child, so he didn't even have a single example to work with. Except maybe…

Dimly, he recalled once, when he was very small, his mother had, on one of the few occasion when she had actually been around, kissed his temple after a bad dream. Praying that it would work to alleviate the pain he knew Matthew was feeling, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Matthew's temple. He drew back to see Matthew looking up at him in shock. His tears had finally stopped, relieving Gilbert. Hoping to eradicate his tears completely, he leaned down to press another kiss against Matthew's forehead but Matthew beat him. He grabbed Gilbert and pulled him down into a mind-numbing kiss, the two of them falling against the bed.

Gilbert's mind was blank for a few seconds before blaring alarms started going off in his head. They should not be doing this. Matthew was emotionally vulnerable right now; he didn't know what he was doing. He was craving acceptance and love because of the exchange with his family earlier; he'd probably regret this later. And if there was one thing that Gilbert did not want, it was for Matthew to ever regret being with him. The only logical thing to do was gently push Matthew away and wait until he was really ready to be intimate.

Having made the wise decision to stop now, Gilbert was horrified to find out that, while he had been lost in thought, he had already unbuttoned Matthew's shirt and was laying kisses down his chest. He panicked and commanded himself to stop. But by then he had already lost all physical control; instead of listening to him, his body rebelled wildly, his hands moving lower on Matthew's body and unzipping his jeans. Gilbert was losing his restraint, fast, especially with the delicious sound of Matthew moaning beneath him as he stripped Gilbert's shirt off. The pause as his shirt was removed was just enough to give him enough clarity to regain control over his voice.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he rasped out.

"Why not?" groaned Matthew as his boyfriend's movements slowed.

"You'll regret it," Gilbert replied as he exerted all of his self-control to make his hands, which were sliding into Matthew's jeans, _finally_ stop. Matthew frowned up at him.

"I won't."

Gilbert leaned in a kissed Matthew chastely, sliding his hands out of Matthew' pants.

"Trust me," he assured him. "I don't want you to have _any_ regrets." _'Not like me,'_ he added mentally. Matthew pouted and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

"You're not going to back down on this, are you?"

"Nope!" Gilbert replied cheerfully as he sat up and pulled back the covers. He snaked an arm around Matthew's waist and pulled him closer again. "Let's just get some sleep."

Matthew sighed in disappointment but curled up against Gilbert and they quickly fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N A semi-important detail: this chapter clarifies the story's general location – somewhere in Southern California.**

**Thank you for the reviews and please enjoy! **

* * *

Lucy Jackson had been a maid in the Weillschmidt residence for almost five years now. It wasn't the most exciting or glamorous job, but the pay was enough to put her through night school. In fact, she had always rather enjoyed the job. True, the house was large and sometimes she still got lost in it, but since hardly anyone was ever in the house, there weren't too many messes to clean up. There was only one duty that she somehow always ended up with, that actually bothered her.

On the rare occasion that Mr. Weillschmidt would actually call the house to talk to his sons, Lucy always seemed to be the one to pick up the phone. Which meant that she had to be the one to wake up the boys (since Mr. Weillschmidt never seemed to remember the time difference between countries and always called early in the morning) and get them to the study to talk to their father. Waking up Ludwig was never a problem; he was usually up at the crack of dawn anyway and would obediently go and speak with his father.

Waking up Gilbert, on the other hand, proved to be much more of a hassle. For one thing, he hated being up early in the morning, as well as talking to his father, and it always took a great deal of coaxing and promising to make pancakes for breakfast before he would get up. This was actually the easier situation to deal with. It was always much more awkward whenever he had a girl with him, which was quite often.

Or at least, it had been. Ever since a disastrous fifteenth birthday party, during which Gilbert had broken into his father's liquor cabinet and had ended up drunk and in bed with one of his friends, he had always brought home a wide variety of female "guests", all of which never showed up twice. This had been the norm until a few months ago, when he had abruptly stopped bringing girls home. Amongst themselves, the maids had theorized that Gilbert was either A) finally shaping up, or B) had a girl he was serious about enough to not take to bed immediately. Either way, they were all immensely interested.

Lucy shook herself from her musings and knocked on Gilbert's door. There was no response. Dreading finding him with some floozy again, she slowly opened the door.

The room was empty. She blinked and stood quietly for a few moments, wondering what she was going to do. Ludwig could hold up the conversation with his father for only so long before he insisted on talking to his first son. She needed to find Gilbert but didn't even know where to start.

Well, the only thing she could do was alert the other servants and split up to search for him. If he was even in the house. She turned around and immediately noticed that the door to the guest room across the hall was wide open. Thanking whoever was above for giving her such great luck, she dashed to the open door to wake up Gilbert.

Her eyes widened as soon as she peeked in. Gilbert was in there all right. So was someone else. She couldn't see exactly who was in bed with Gilbert, because of his bare arm draped over the girl, obscuring her almost entirely from Lucy's view. Gilbert had either reverted back to his old ways, or had finally managed to seduce his serious girlfriend. Either way, it was some of the best gossip to ever descend upon the Weillschmidt household and Lucy was filled with glee as she realized that for once, she would hold the reins on the gossip. Everyone would have to come to her to find out what had happened with Gilbert and his new girlfriend. Gloating already, Lucy entered the room to discover for herself this new girlfriend. She had blond hair, she could tell that much. Her heart pounded with excitement as she neared the bed.

And then skipped a beat when she realized that the girlfriend was actually a boyfriend. For a few moments, she was frozen in shock. It would make sense, she finally concluded, as she came back to her senses, that Gilbert was really a homosexual. After all, the friend he'd ended up with that one time _had_ been a man. Suddenly, Lucy remembered that the very influential man who paid her salary was most likely still waiting on the phone for his eldest son. Who was lying–most likely after a night of passion–in bed with another boy. Nervously, Lucy leaned forward and shook Gilbert's naked shoulder gently.

"Master Gilbert, your father's on the phone," she whispered, trying to wake up Gilbert without waking up the other boy. There was an unintelligible groan and Gilbert pulled the blanket over his head.

"Master Gilbert!" she whispered more urgently, shaking him harder. "Your father's waiting!" she hissed as she yanked the sheets off of Gilbert's face, revealing his angry face.

"Fine!" he growled. "I'll be there in five minutes."

"You'd better," she warned before backing out of the room. "I'll be waiting outside. If you're not out in five minutes I'm dragging you to the phone!"

Gilbert turned over in bed with another groan, threw his arm back around Matthew, stirring him from his sleep.

"Why are you up so early?" muttered Matthew. Gilbert ignored him and chose to instead lean over and kiss his boyfriend. He pulled back quickly, remembering Lucy's threat.

"My dad's on the phone," he said. "I gotta go pretend to talk to him." Reluctantly, Gilbert shoved off the covers and pulled himself out of bed.

"Gilbert?" Gilbert turned around to look at Matthew, who was looking up.

"Yes, Jailbird?"

"Why is there a bird sitting on my head?" Gilbert took a closer look and noticed a small ball of yellow fuzz sitting on Matthew's head.

"Gilbird!" he exclaimed as he scooped it off of Matthew's head. "How did you escape from your cage?" Matthew sat up slowly, shooting Gilbert an incredulous look.

"'Gilbird'?" he repeated.

"Yup, I named––"

"Master Gilbert!" Lucy cried out as she popped back in the doorway, immensely relieved to see that both boys had apparently been wearing pants all night. "Your father––"

"All right, all right, here I come. Just let me put Gilbird back in his cage." He turned away from Lucy back to Matthew. "Be right back," he said before stealing a quick kiss. Both Matthew and Lucy turned bright red as Gilbert went back to his room to put Gilbird in his cage. He left his room to see that Lucy was waiting outside for him.

"I'd appreciate if no one found out about this," Gilbert said to Lucy, pressing a bill into her hands. Lucy's eyes widened at the sight of the one hundred dollar bill and quickly saluted him.

"Yes, sir! I won't tell a soul."

* * *

Matthew sighed as Gilbert left the room with a maid and decided that he might as well get up. It was also still a school day, so he dragged himself and his duffel bag to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He frowned as he looked through his bag–he had grabbed fewer things than he had hoped to. Looking down into the bag reminded him of the incident with Alfred the day before. He bit his lip and tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. It was hard. Hastily, Matthew grabbed some clothes; took a long, hot shower; and did his best to forget about his family. He had Gilbert, and he had friends. That was enough. Feeling considerably better, Matthew dried off, dressed, and exited the bathroom to find Gilbert (still without his shirt) lounging on the bed, watching a TV Matthew hadn't even known was in the room. Gilbert looked over and frowned.

"Aww," he groaned. "I was hoping you'd come out in just a towel." Matthew flushed. "Why the hell are you dressed so early, anyway?"

"It's Friday," Matthew said slowly. "We still have school."

"Fuck that," Gilbert said calmly. "We're ditching today."

"But––"

"Don't worry about it," Gilbert cut him off, sitting up. "I'll just get Fritz to call us in absent and we'll have an awesome vacation day."

Fritz? Gilbert had never mentioned anybody with that name before. Not that he ever really mentioned personal things to Matthew at all. Even though they had been together for a few months now, and had been friends even longer, it suddenly occurred to Matthew that when it came to his personal life, he really didn't know much about Gilbert. He knew Gilbert didn't want to talk about his personal life, but it still bothered him that Gilbert was avoiding talking to him about something. Then again, Matthew had never really talked about his life with Gilbert either, so he decided to put it from his mind. When he was ready to talk, he'd be ready to listen.

"Who's Fritz?" he decided to ask.

"My dad's awesome assistant. When it came to Ludwig and me, whenever my dad didn't want to do something for us, he'd always make Fritz do it. He raised Ludwig and me more than our own parents did," Gilbert said bitterly. There was a pause before Gilbert forced a more cheerful tone, a switch that didn't escape Matthew. "He always calls in for me when I feel like ditching. I'll just tell him what happened and he'll call for you, too. Besides," Gilbert added with a teasing tone, grinning, "you can't go to school today. You didn't do your homework last night." Matthew yelped in surprise.

"Shit!" he cried out. "I didn't turn in my paper last night!"

Gilbert started laughing.

"It's not funny! That paper's worth five hundred points!" Matthew wailed.

"Fritz'll smooth it over. He can do anything," Gilbert promised. "And after all the shit that happened yesterday, you deserve an awesome day off. It'll be like 'Ferris Beuller's Day Off'! Except more awesome. We can even jack my dad's Ferrari."

"Except let's not crash it," Matthew added, a tiny smile making its way onto his face. Gilbert pouted.

"But that's the best part!"

After calling Fritz and eating a quick breakfast, Gilbert got dressed and found the Ferrari keys. He and Matthew then headed out toward Los Angeles, ready to have a fantastic day that would drive all the shitty memories from the day before far, far away.

Little did they know that the real shit was about to hit the fan.

* * *

"I don't like it," Alfred mumbled to himself for the fiftieth time that day as he sat up against a wall with Linh during lunch.

"What?" Linh asked. Alfred frowned harder. Crap. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Nothing." Linh sighed in frustration and slid out from under Alfred's arm, turning to face him with her arms crossed.

"Alfred. You've barely talked to me all day and when you do open your mouth, you keep saying 'I don't like it'. It's obvious something's up." Her tone softened. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it." Alfred remained silent, his brow furrowed in thought. "Does it have something to do with your brother?" The look of shock on Alfred's face was priceless; if the moment hadn't been serious, Linh might have laughed.

"How did you know?"

"Well, you always hang out with him or talk about him, but today you're not saying a word. Is he sick?" Alfred scoffed.

"Something like that." Linh shot him a look that plainly said "you will tell me everything or I will force it out of you with a pair of chopsticks". Recognizing defeat, Alfred ended up telling Linh what had happened the day before; finding the picture, finding out his brother was a fag, the fight, and Matthew ultimately leaving the house.

"Good thing, too," he finished with a shudder. "We were sleeping in the same room! His gayness might've spread to me."

"…You're really just concerned about Matt, aren't you?" Linh asked with a small smile.

"No!" Alfred exclaimed. "I am not at all worried about that faggot!"

Linh almost laughed again.

"You're worried about him!" she insisted.

"No way!" Alfred asserted. "I am not at all worried that he's dating that man-slut!" Linh couldn't help but laugh a little. "I'm serious! You're new here, so you haven't heard all of the rumors! I've heard that he's doing hard drugs, and that he sleeps around like crazy, and––" Alfred continued to reveal every rumor he'd ever heard about Gilbert, finally ending with "He's definitely not the kind of guy my brother should be dating!" Linh shot him a quizzical look. "Not that he should be dating guys at all, because that's disgusting and sinful," he added quickly.

"I'm sure most of those rumors aren't true," Linh said. "I mean, if he was really doing all this illegal stuff, wouldn't he have gotten caught by now? Or wouldn't someone know for sure? I don't think he's as bad of a guy as you're making him out to be."

"You're my girlfriend! You're supposed to take my side!" Alfred whined in disbelief.

"I'm not taking anyone's side," Linh insisted. "I just think you're overreacting. I mean, it must've been a pretty big shock to find that out about your brother, especially on accident, but you could at least give him a chance."

Alfred shook his head vehemently. "No way. I'm not letting him date that creep and ruin his life! I'm going to put an end to this, no matter what it takes."

* * *

Miles away, Matthew shuddered.

"You okay?" Gilbert asked with a mouth full of fried rice. They had just started their lunch after an awesome morning of the many attractions Los Angeles had to offer.

"I just got the feeling that Alfred's going to do something really stupid," Matthew sighed.

"When is that jackass ever _not_ doing something really stupid?" Gilbert countered. "Anyway, forget about him. That's why we're here."

"Yeah," Matthew mumbled before taking a bite of his yakisoba.

"Anyway, I have something awesome to tell you," Gilbert said. "There's this classical music competition coming up and I think we might be ready for it. Antonio and Francis and I have always wanted to compete, but without a violin, we couldn't really do anything. But now that we've got you, we should awesomely win it!" Matthew frowned and set down his chopsticks.

"Are you sure? We haven't been playing together very long, and then everyone will find out you like classical music." Gilbert shrugged.

"It's in May, so we still have time to practice, and school will be almost over, so who gives a shit what everyone else thinks? If they can't handle my awesomeness, then that's their problem."

"That's true," Matthew agreed. "Let's do it."

"Yes!" Gilbert cheered before pumping a fist into the air. Matthew couldn't help but smile.

* * *

A month later, Alfred walked down the halls of his school with a satisfied smirk on his face and a manila folder under his arms. He made his way to his counselor's office and took a moment standing outside his door to get his act together. Finally, he opened the door, a pathetic look on his face.

"Hey, Mr. Clark, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, dejectedly.

"Sure, Alfred," his counselor replied, minimizing the page he was working on. "Sit down." Alfred sat down across from his counselor and chewed his lip in false nervousness. "What's eating you?"

"It's my brother. I think he might be in trouble. And I have the pictures to prove it."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N ****Thank you for reviewing and please enjoy. :)**

* * *

"––and Matt's so shy and quiet I don't think he'd be able to say anything, even if something was wrong or somebody was hurting him."

Mr. Clark sighed and leaned back in his chair as Alfred finished his story. He quickly rifled through the pictures the young man had placed on his desk. Even without Alfred's accompanying story, the pictures said enough. They looked real; not to mention he highly doubted Alfred had enough proficiency (or patience) with photo editing to doctor them. This was serious. They had a possible crime on their hands. He sighed again as he placed the pictures back down on his desk, rubbing his temples with one hand. It was days like this that made him hate his job.

"Alfred," he began, the first words since his story had begun. "This is a very serious accusation you're making. If these allegations are true, we're going to have to get the law involved, especially with photo evidence. Before we do anything that drastic, I need you to be certain of what you're saying." He picked up one of the pictures again and studied it for a minute. "This is a bit of an awkward question, but are you sure your brother isn't... enjoying this? It's not some sort of misunderstanding? Are you one hundred percent sure that Gilbert's been sexually harassing your brother?"

"I'm sure."

* * *

Gilbert was lounging in his chair, not paying any attention to his Civics teacher when a teacher aide, a freshman, walked through the door. He leaned over to the neighboring desk where Antonio was sitting.

"Fifty bucks says it's for me."

"I'm not a sucker," Antonio replied. Gilbert scowled at him then looked back up at the nervous teacher aide. His Civics teacher was also the football coach and a very burly, scary-looking man. It wasn't surprising that the mousy kid was scared of him.

"Yes, what is it?" his teacher asked, finally noticing the freshman standing in the doorway. The student nervously walked over and handed him a slip of yellow paper, trying not to get too close.

"Mr. Clark needs to see Gilbert Weillschmidt." There was an easy laugh that rippled through the class. Gilbert got called up to the counselor's office often, so it surprised no one that the student was here to collect Gilbert, who grinned at Antonio. The teacher sighed.

"Again, Weillschmidt?" he questioned with another round of laughter from the class. "You can go on up after class."

"Mr. Clark said immediately," the freshman piped up. "And he said for Gilbert to bring his things with him."

The easy atmosphere in the class died. Whatever was going on, it was obviously serious. For the first time in a long time, Gilbert felt nervous about going up to the counselor's office. He hadn't done anything serious lately; in fact, he had hardly done anything at all. Matthew had a very calming effect on him. He had cut down drastically on the pranks since they had started dating. Briefly, he wondered if this was about the day he and Matthew had ditched last month. Had his father actually found out about him borrowing the Ferrari? He stood up and grabbed his binder with hands that shook slightly before following the teacher aide out of the room. He noticed that the aide kept up a fast pace, and looked behind himself often. Apparently, he was trying to stay as far away from Gilbert as possible. Now that was suspicious.

"_He must have heard something in Clark's office,_" Gilbert thought to himself. "Hey," he said out loud, "you wouldn't happen to know why I'm being called up, would you?" The aide let out a loud squeak when he realized Gilbert was addressing him.

"No!" he said too quickly, arousing Gilbert's suspicion further. "I don't know anything." As if he were trying to be as suspicious as possible, the freshman pulled away and quickened his pace again. Gilbert knew he was lying, but Mr. Clark's office was just down the hall and there was no way he'd be able to question the kid before he got there, especially with the pace the kid was going at. He was practically running back to the counselor's office. Gilbert felt another wave of dread wash over him. Something was seriously wrong. The freshman disappeared through the door of Mr. Clark's office and Gilbert followed. The freshman was quivering in the corner of the antechamber as Gilbert knocked on the door to Mr. Clark's actual office. The door was opened and a very serious Mr. Clark answered.

"Scott, you need to find somewhere else to wait," he said to the freshman. "Go to the library." He waited until the kid was gone before locking the door to the antechamber. Gilbert swallowed nervously. If Mr. Clark didn't even want kids outside his door while he was with Gilbert, things had to be very, very serious. He had never gotten in this much trouble before. Gilbert followed Mr. Clark wordlessly, frantically trying to think of what he could have done that would warrant him being called into the office in this much secrecy. As much as he thought, there was nothing in the recent past that would get him into this much trouble. Mr. Clark nodded toward a chair and Gilbert sat down, for once not taking being in the counselor's office lightly.

It was only when he sat down and finally looked at Mr. Clark that he also noticed the police officer sitting in the corner.

"What the hell's going on?"

"Gilbert, we've heard some disturbing allegations about you and received photographic evidence supporting them," Mr. Clark told him. Gilbert frowned in confusion. He hadn't done anything illegal lately. In fact, he hadn't done anything illegal in two years. What kind of photos could he possibly have? "This is outside our jurisdiction as a school. I'm afraid with this kind of evidence and testimony, we had no choice but to call the police."

"Wait," Gilbert cried out. His hands were shaking again, though he didn't notice. "What the hell are you talking about? Allegations? Photos? _What's going on?_" Mr. Clark wordlessly slid several of the photos across the desk to face Gilbert. He was shocked to see they were pictures of himself – with Matthew. Every photograph had been taken at exactly the wrong time; in nearly every photo, it seemed as if Gilbert was harassing Matthew. All of the situations that had been photographed had been mostly innocent; sure, he liked to tease Matthew but he never pressured him. In these photos though, it sure looked like he was. The implications were suddenly obvious to Gilbert.

"Where did you get these?"

"We aren't allowed to reveal our source," Mr. Clark replied, taking the pictures back from Gilbert. "But with testimony and such obvious physical evidence of sexual battery, we couldn't let this go, especially since you are a legal adult and responsible for your own actions. Officer," he nodded at policeman sitting in the corner. "I'll leave the rest to you." The cop stood up and Gilbert shot to his feet.

"Mr. Clark, wait, this is all wrong, I haven't done anything to Matthew!" Mr. Clark also stood up.

"I'd like to believe that, Gilbert, but with this kind of evidence, we really have no choice. If you're innocent, everything should work out. If not, well, then, you'll be getting the punishment you deserve. Just count yourself lucky he's not a minor." Gilbert's blood ran cold. Mr. Clark left the office to unlock the door and the officer approached him and clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

"Sorry, kid," he said gruffly before removing the pair of handcuffs hanging from his belt and snapping them onto Gilbert's wrists, twisting his arms behind his back. "Gilbert Weillschmidt, you're under arrest for sexual battery. You have the right to remain silent––" The rest of his rights went unheard by Gilbert – he was in too much shock.

He was being arrested. He was being arrested for false accusations about his relationship with Matthew. He was so stunned he didn't even hear the bell ring, and hardly even noticed that the halls were flooded with people as he was led out of the school in handcuffs. It wasn't until they were in front of the police car that it finally registered that pretty much everyone was watching from the front window as he was pushed into the car. Only two things stood out to him as he stared blankly at the crowd of people whispering and pointing; Matthew's concerned face and Alfred's smirking one.

* * *

After the bell rang and class was over, Matthew was making his way to his next class when he heard the whispers.

"Did you hear? There's a cop car outside and I heard someone's being arrested!"

All of the people around Matthew perked up at that news and dashed off for the front of the school. The huge crowd was all going the same way; Matthew couldn't have gone a different way if he had tried. So instead, he just left the crowed push him along until they had reached the front of the school. Curiosity got the better of him and he worked his way through the crowd until he was pressed up against the window. Everyone was pointing at the figure being led by the cops. A chill ran through Matthew as he recognized the person in handcuffs. Everyone did. Gilbert was the only albino at their school. After the police car drove away, the teachers and various security personnel at their school started herding all of the students back to their classrooms.

Mathew dashed away. There was no way he was going back to class. Gilbert was in trouble, serious trouble, and if there was anything he could do to help, he sure as hell wasn't going to be stuck in a classroom unable to do anything. He was hurrying through the hall when he saw a head of familiar blond hair, trying to slip out one of the side doors, apparently attempting to do the exact same thing he was.

"Francis!" Matthew called out, running to catch up to him.

"Matthieu," Francis exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Same thing you're doing. I'm ditching." Francis grinned.

"Antonio already got caught trying to ditch, but you can help me find out what's going on with Gilbert," he said before herding Matthew through the door. Luckily, Francis also had a car and he and Matthew were easily able to make their escape from the school.

* * *

They waited at Francis' house for any sort of news. His house was also in the same neighborhood as Gilbert's, though it was much smaller. The two friends were in one of the living rooms in the house, the air filled with tension. Matthew and Francis were sitting in silence, apart from each other, both absorbed completely in their own thoughts. Francis was trying to think of any prank they had pulled that would get Gilbert in trouble with the law. All Matthew could think of was the possibility of being separated from Gilbert. The thought was unbearable.

They'd been sitting around aimlessly for just over an hour when Matthew's cell phone went off. Francis' attention snapped over to him as he quickly looked at the caller ID, unknown, before picking up the phone.

"Hello?" There was a slight pause before the person on the phone spoke up.

"Mattie?" The familiar voice sounded tired and depressed, the opposite of its normal quality.

"Gil!" Matthew exclaimed in relief. Francis leaned in to listen, also looking relieved. "What's going on? Where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Mattie," Gilbert replied. "I'll explain everything later, but right now I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"This is my one phone call, so I need you to get Ludwig to contact my parents about bail. It's $25,000." Bail. The one word carried so much meaning. Matthew shuddered. He had known Gilbert was in trouble, but he had had no idea that it was serious enough to get him in jail. The threat of being separated from Gilbert suddenly became all too real.

"All right," he promised, quietly. "I'll call him."

"There's something else," Gilbert said quietly. "Something I didn't want to tell you before. Something I couldn't tell you." Sensing that this was becoming a very private conversation, Francis drew back.

"I'm going to go make some coffee," he whispered before exiting the room. Matthew didn't even hear him.

"What is it?" he asked Gilbert. He could hear him take a deep breath on the other side of the phone.

"I want to tell you about my fifteenth birthday," Gilbert began. There was a pause. "I've never told anyone this before but I want you to know."

Matthew swallowed. Gilbert's voice was serious, the most serious that he had ever heard from him before. He couldn't help but feel a rush of emotion when he realized that Gilbert was putting so much trust in him, to tell him what was obviously an important secret, something that Gilbert had never been able to tell anyone before.

"You can tell me anything," he assured Gilbert. There was another pause, a shorter one. He started again, but now, his voice shook slightly.

"Back then, I still loved my parents and I wanted their approval so much. I looked up to my father most of all. I wanted to be just like him. My whole life, he'd never been there; I never saw him but I still looked up to him. And for this one birthday, he had promised me that he would be there. He swore to me, months ahead of time, that he and my mother would be home for me. And I was still stupid enough to believe him.

"Then when my birthday party came around, I was so excited. I was sure that for once, my dad would be there. Just for once, our whole family would be together. I really believed it." There was another pause.

"But he didn't come. I waited for hours for my parents to come home. The party had already ended and only a few of my friends were still there when he finally called. He said that something had come up and that he wouldn't be able to make it. That was the last straw for me. After that day, I've always hated my father."

"Gilbert," Matthew said, softly.

"There's more," Gilbert admitted, quietly. "That day, I was so angry. I wanted to destroy my dad's things, the things he cared more about than my brother or me. I broke into my dad's liquor cabinet and my friends and I got really drunk. I tried to make everything go away by drinking, but it just made me feel worse. Nothing could stop what I was feeling. I got so wasted I ended up doing something really stupid." There was another pause. Matthew gripped the phone tighter.

"I was so desperate then. I just wanted to be closer to someone, anyone. I wanted someone close to me like my father should have been. And I was too drunk to stop myself. I slept with one of my friends." To say that Matthew was stunned would have been a gross understatement. He had been very much aware that Gilbert was experienced, but he had had no idea that it had started like that. He was completely speechless.

"That's why I stopped you the night your parent's freaked. It wasn't that I didn't want to do it with you, I do. I just didn't want you to throw away your first because you were upset and desperate for somebody to accept you. I didn't want you to regret anything, like I do. I love you too much."

"_I love you too much."_ The words echoed in Matthew's mind. Gilbert had never told him that before. Their relationship was much more subtle than that; they didn't hold hands and make gooey statements. It was the first time Matthew had ever heard something like that from Gilbert. He was dimly aware that he was crying.

"Gil, I––" His reply was cut off.

"That phone's for arranging bail, not telling personal stories," a gruff voice said in the background.

"But this is important!" he heard Gilbert cry out before the phone was slammed down, presumably by some guard with the gruff voice. Matthew stared at the phone in his hand for a few moments before Francis reentered with two coffee mugs.

"Matthieu, what's wrong? Is Gilbert all right?"

Matthew flipped his phone shut before wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Francis. I need a favor. Please take me to the bank."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N I'd like to add that not everything in this current arc is exactly realistic; please ignore this for fanfiction's sake. **

**This chapter's a bit shorter than the others; originally, it was supposed to be part of the last chapter, but it was going to be too long, so I split it up. Enjoy and thank you for reviewing!**

* * *

"Matthieu, are you sure this is a good idea?" Francis asked as they pulled into the parking lot of the Zwingli bank. On the way there, Matthew had quickly sketched out his plan. Simply put, he was going to pay Gilbert's bail himself.

"Yes," Matthew said firmly. "Even if I called Ludwig like Gilbert asked, he'd have to call their parents, and who knows how long that would take? Gilbert himself told me he hasn't seen them in months. I don't want Gilbert stuck in that place any longer than he has to be."

"That is true," Francis agreed. "Are you going to have enough to pay his bail?" Matthew nodded.

"I should. My parent's have been putting money in my college savings since before I was born." Francis frowned.

"If it's your parent's money, how are you supposed to get it?"

"I'm eighteen. That money became mine on my birthday. I can do what I want with it."

"If you need it, I can lend you the money," Francis offered. "I know you need those savings for college." Matthew shook his head. It was true; now that his parents had sort of disowned him (he'd called his father after he had moved in with Gilbert; he hadn't responded since), he had no one who would pay for college for him, so he really did need that money. But Matthew didn't care. Gilbert was much more important.

"We could go to a bondsman," Francis offered. "Then you wouldn't have to put up as much money." Matthew shook his head again.

"Paying with cash is faster. Besides, it's not a problem. I should have enough," he insisted before unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car. "I'll be right back." He shut the BMW's door behind him and entered the bank. Thankfully, it was a Tuesday, not to mention this particular bank was relatively unknown; therefore, it was mostly empty. He waited for only a few minutes before he was able to see a teller, though it felt more like hours.

"Welcome to Zwingli bank, how can I help you today?" asked the teller, a bored looking, dark haired man. Matthew slid his driver's license and his bank card through the gap in the window.

"I want to transfer all of the money in my college savings to my checking account," he said curtly, wanting to get out of the bank and to Gilbert as quickly as possible. The teller raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure about that, sir? The money will generate more interest in the college account."

"I'm sure," Matthew said tersely. The teller frowned but made the necessary transactions. As soon as he had his bank card and license back, Matthew rushed out of the bank and back into Francis' car.

"Did everything work out?"

"Yep," Matthew answered. "I got the money, let's go."

"They probably still have Gilbert at the police station," Francis said as he turned on the car. "We'll check there, first." He pulled out of the parking lot and Matthew clutched his checkbook tightly. Gilbert had saved him when he was in trouble; he'd be damned if he wasn't going to do the same.

Ten minutes later, they had arrived at the local police station. Francis parked and Matthew quickly filled out a check.

"I'll wait for you out here," Francis said as Matthew got out of the car. He nodded before entering the station, the check held tightly in his hands. The station was mostly empty; just one lone officer was sitting at a desk, reading. Matthew walked up to the officer and set the check on the desk, getting her attention.

"I'm here to pay Gilbert Weillschmidt's bail," Matthew declared, sliding the check over to the police officer. "I have the cash," he added, unsure of what exactly to say. He'd never paid bail for anyone before. The officer looked up from her phone. She gave him a strange look before picking up the check and studying it for a moment.

"Seems to be in order," she finally said. "I'll go get Weillschmidt. Wait here." The officer lifted herself out of her chair before disappearing into the recesses of the police station. Passing an office, she quickly stuck her head in.

"Chief Johnson," she called to the chief of police. "Some kid came in with Weillschmidt's bail. I need the cell keys."

The chief looked up from where he was filling out a report with the blond teenager in the office with him. The officer recognized him as the kid who had provided the photos and testimony against Weillschmidt. There were also two adults also in the room, whom the officer assumed to be the boy's parents. All three looked rather surprised at the announcement.

"Really, Smith?" chief Johnson asked in genuine surprise, reaching into his pocket's for the keys. "That's surprising. Considering the charge and amount I didn't think anyone but family would pay."

"Mind if I come in?" asked the female officer. The chief nodded and she entered the small office. The photos she was looking for were spread out on the desk.

"That's the kid," she said, pointing to Matthew. "The one from the Weillschmidt case. He came in the with the bail."

"Matt?" the blond asked in surprise, a statement echoed by the two adults. "Why's he paying that jackass' bail?"

"Alfred, language!" the woman snapped. The chief frowned.

"That's strange. He's the last person I'd expect to be paying Weillschmidt's bail."

"He probably threatened him," added in the teenager. No one seemed to hear him.

Smith shrugged. "He brought the check in. That's all I know." She took the keys from Johnson's hand and left. As she made her way to the station's two holding cells, she noticed that the three in the office seemed to all be arguing furiously with the chief. Ignoring this, she unlocked the cell which held a white-haired teenager looking out the window.

"Weillschmidt," Smith announced. "Someone's paid your bail." He looked up in surprise.

"Damn, Ludwig's fast," he muttered to himself before getting to his feet and following Smith out of the cell, noticing that Alfred and two people he assumed were Matthew's mother and stepfather were staring out the door. He ignored them, though he was heavily tempted to strangle Alfred. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that it had been Alfred who had ratted them out and been the one who had taken all of those pictures.

His theory had been proven correct when, from his cell, he had seen Alfred enter the station with the two adults in tow. They'd been in the chief's office for some time now, where Gilbert assumed the chief was taking a deposition. He had been interrogated earlier; he had refused to speak without a lawyer. He'd had enough skirmishes with the law before to know that much.

They reached the end of the hallway, and Gilbert turned the corner fully expecting to see Ludwig, or maybe even Fritz. He certainly hadn't expected Matthew.

"Mattie!" he cried out and threw his arms around the smaller man. He quickly drew back, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I paid your bail," Matthew responded. To his surprise, Gilbert frowned.

"Why? Ludwig could've handled it."

"That would've taken too long. I wasn't going to let you rot here." Matthew smiled. "I'm way too awesome to leave you stuck in jail." Gilbert couldn't help but smile when he recognized Matthew's version of the line he himself had used on his boyfriend.

"Still, where did you get the money?" he asked. He knew Matthew didn't have that kind of money, especially after having been abandoned by his parents. He'd been paying for nearly everything Matthew needed lately.

"I used my college savings." Gilbert barely heard the gasps which came from behind him.

"You idiot!" he cried out. "Why would you do that? You need that money."

"I don't care," Matthew said. "Getting you out of here was more important." Gilbert swallowed and looked at Matthew. He really didn't deserve him.

"I'm paying you back every cent," Gilbert promised.

"Good. 'Cause I'm not enough of a saint to just give away $25,000. I really do need that money." Gilbert chuckled as he hugged Matthew tightly again; this time, the blond hugged back. The stayed that way for a moment before Matthew leaned forward and said softly into Gilbert's ear, "And there was something I wanted to tell you before our phone call got cut off: I love you, too."

Without even thinking about Matthew's family gaping at the scene, Gilbert softly kissed him and Matthew happily kissed him back. Gilbert broke the kiss off after a few seconds.

"Let's go home," he suggested. Matthew nodded, and, clasping each other by the hand, they left the police station.

Leaving Alfred, Arthur, Emily, Smith, and Johnson gaping after them.

"The nerve of him!" Emily suddenly burst out, breaking the awkward silence. She turned around to the chief of police, who had a very peculiar look on his face. "How could you let that monster walk out of here?"

While his mother berated the chief of police, Alfred's mind was turning. He had never been so confused in his life. His whole world seemed to have been thrown off of its axis. Everything he had thought he had known was now in question. He'd heard the rumors, from people he trusted. Everything he had heard about Gilbert all led to him being a punk, a druggie, someone that he had to protect his big brother from, no matter what; but that image had just been completely shattered. The person he had just seen had been nothing like the rumors.

And nothing like he had thought. Alfred had honestly believed that Gilbert had been manipulating his brother somehow; it had never occurred to him that Gilbert actually cared. Or that Matthew cared just as much. Or that maybe the rumors were wrong, and that maybe Linh had been right. It had just been so easy to ignore his problems and the situation. It had been so much easier to make himself believe that his brother was being tricked and that he was supposed to help him. All of the confusion and hurt from finding out about his brother's homosexuality, he'd been able to deal with by convincing himself that it hadn't been true. All this time, he had been in denial, which had almost cost a man his freedom. A tightness filled Alfred's chest; a tightness that weighed heavily, both on his body and on his soul.

He'd almost had an innocent person thrown in jail. After the scene he had just witnessed, any doubt that it was otherwise had been wiped clear from his mind. The thought made him sick. He was supposed to be the hero, and yet he had just nearly framed somebody.

His mother's shrill voice suddenly broke through his thoughts.

"How can you let that molester back on the streets!"

"I want to drop the charges."

"Alfred!" his mother cried out, whipping around to stare at him. "You told us yourself, that man _harassed_ your brother! How can you––"

"I was wrong," he interrupted. "I was wrong."

Silence had taken over the room again as its inhabitants digested what had just happened.

"Would it be correct to assume," began Chief Johnson, "that this was, perhaps, a misunderstanding?"

Alfred nodded. "I think it was. I want to drop the charges." Chief Johnson nodded.

"Is that okay with you, Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland?"

"Yes," declared Arthur firmly. Emily nodded slowly in agreement.

* * *

Francis sighed in relief and smiled when he saw Gilbert and Matthew, hand in hand, exiting the police station. He turned the car back on as they approached and unlocked the doors. Matthew reached for the front door, but Gilbert pulled him through the back door and they piled into the back seat, quickly disappearing from Francis' view, the obvious sounds of a make out session following. Francis sighed internally.

"Gilbert." A few seconds later, he finally responded, popping back up into view.

"Yes, Francis?"

"In case you haven't noticed, this is a new car. If you do anything to make it dirty, I will force feed you _escargots_." Gilbert frowned up at him.

"Francis, I have more class than that."

"Oh, really?" Francis took advantage of a red light to shoot a look of disbelief at Gilbert, who was still entwined with a flushed Matthew in the backseat. "I can think of _three_ separate occasions where you––"

"Don't get the car dirty, right," Gilbert cut him off, flushing at the mention of some of his darker, wilder days, before disappearing again. Francis sighed again, but drove the couple back to their house. He could never interfere with love, even if he wanted to.

* * *

"Dammit, Gil, your house is too freaking big," Matthew groaned as he and Gilbert stopped for another heated bout of kissing and groping against the wall. That made the tenth stop on their way to Gilbert's bedroom.

"Not my fault," Gilbert gasped before moving his point of focus to Matthew's neck, where he concentrated on leaving as many purple bruises as he could, relishing in the noises spilling from Matthew's mouth. Matthew grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back up for another kiss before they managed to stumble into Gilbert's room and land tangled on his bed. Gilbert opened his mouth to ask Matthew––

"And before you ask, I'm _sure_," Matthew cut off his inner thoughts. Gilbert grinned and brought their lips back together again. They'd both been waiting for this long enough.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N I'd just like to say a quick word about constructive criticism: **_**It's okay to leave it**_**. In fact, please do! When I read over my reviews, I feel like all I ever get is praise, which isn't very realistic. My writing has flaws; I know that. It's perfectly okay to say so if something about my writing style or plot rubs you the wrong way. The only way I can fix it or work on it is if you tell me, so please tell me! It's the only way I'll improve, and if my writing improves, that'll make my chapters better, which only benefits you! **

**Thank you for reviewing and please enjoy. :)**

* * *

A loud, obnoxious ringing woke Gilbert from his blissful sleep. He frowned deeply and a groan escaped his throat as he unwrapped his arm from Matthew's waist to throw his hand out from under the covers, trying in vain to turn off the alarm clock. At the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of the fact that he was naked and Matthew seemed to be, too, but in his half-asleep state, he was unable to connect the two. His hand repeatedly came into contact with the wood of his bedside table and finally he was forced to open his eyes to locate the source of the disturbance.

"Fuck," he mumbled as his hand finally made contact with the snooze button, silencing the alarm clock. "Forgot to turn it off."

Another groan, this time, one of pain, came from beside him, fully rousing Gilbert from his sleep as he, quite suddenly, connected the dots of just what had happened the night before. Gilbert swallowed and looked at Matthew, still pressed up against him, feeling horribly guilty at the sight of his boyfriend trying his best to smile up at him through the pain Gilbert knew he was feeling. He had truly done his best to be gentle with Matthew the night before; he hadn't wanted to hurt him, but it had been inevitable, particularly because Matthew had been a virgin.

The fact still didn't make the look on Matthew's face any easier to deal with. Gilbert felt awful for causing his lover so much pain; he felt even worse about the fact that he had enjoyed the sex so much without any repercussions while Matthew had to suffer by himself. He pulled his boyfriend even closer and swallowed again before he finally managed to speak.

"Are you feeling okay, Mattie?"

"I'm fine," Matthew said, only partly lying. True, he was in a lot of pain, but it had definitely been worth it. Making love with Gilbert had been extremely satisfying, even if things had gotten awkward towards the end as Gilbert's lack of experience with men finally caught up with them. He shifted slightly and bit his lip when he felt the pain that shot up his back. Gilbert's guilty expression didn't go by Matthew unnoticed. He cupped his hands around Gilbert's face and brought their lips together, gently.

"You don't have anything to feel guilty about," Matthew told him after they broke apart, one hand still on Gilbert's face, the other moving to stroke his hair.

"But I hurt you."

"That's just because it was the first time, though, right?" Matthew reasoned. "Isn't it supposed to get better after a while?"

"I don't know," Gilbert admitted. "I'm sort of improvising now. I don't really have much experience to go off of." They lapsed back into silence, simply lying in each others arms.

"I really am fine," Matthew insisted after a minute. "But I still think I'm going to spend the day in bed."

"Sounds like an awesome idea," Gilbert said, a hint of a smile finally gracing his face.

"But first I want to take a shower, because I feel disgusting." A spark of interest flashed across Gilbert's face and he smirked.

"You know, Mattie, you're probably going to have a little trouble walking today. You should let me help you take that shower." Matthew grinned, happy that Gilbert was finally looking less guilty.

"Good idea."

* * *

After an awesome, steamy (no pun intended) make out session in the shower, Matthew and Gilbert got dressed and retired to one of the many livings rooms in the house with a slew of action and horror movies they planned on watching. Gilbert had insisted on carrying him the whole way, which had been rather embarrassing when they had passed Ludwig on his way to school (they hadn't even considered _not_ ditching). Ludwig had just turned away (flushing a dark red) and continued walking and Gilbert had continued on his own way, deposited Matthew on a couch, and began picking out the movies.

After that, Gilbert joined Matthew on the couch and they started their marathon. The remained mostly quiet, simply enjoying each other's company and the films. It wasn't until there was a snippet of classical music in the background of the Will Smith film they were in the middle of watching that Gilbert suddenly remembered something very important and paused the movie.

"Hey, Jailbird. I figured out what piece we're going to play for the Young Musician's Festival," Gilbert announced.

"Really?" The randomness of the statement threw Matthew off for a moment and he had to think for a minute before remembering exactly what that was. It was the classical music competition Gilbert had told him about almost a month ago, the day they had "borrowed" Mr. Weillschmidt's Ferrari. He had completely forgotten about the competition. He _had_ been rather distracted in the last month. "What piece?"

"The Allegro of Mozart's Quartet No. 23 in F Major," Gilbert said, proudly. "It's the only piece awesome enough for us." Matthew furrowed his brow, as he tried to remember the piece.

"Oh!" he finally said as he remembered it, "From the Prussian Quartets! That _is_ a good piece." Gilbert snorted.

"Obviously, the awesome me chose it!"

Matthew smiled internally. Finally, Gilbert was acting normal again. It had worried him when Gilbert had been acting so differently. It was a relief to know that Gilbert was feeling better after the stress and emotional exhaustion that had plagued him since he had called Matthew from the police station.

"We'll have to start rehearsing as soon as possible," Gilbert was saying, absorbed in the details of preparing for the competition. "I'll call up Antonio and Francis later."

Matthew smiled again. Yes, everything was back to normal.

* * *

Of course, normal for them was far from normal for most other people. Their twisted version of normal entailed all sorts of bizarre things. Like Matthew and Gilbert's current position three weeks after Gilbert had been freed from prison. And their outfits.

"Matt, move the feather duster, it's blocking Gil's eyes!"

"I hate you," Gilbert informed Elizaveta, who only giggled and snapped a few pictures. Matthew was feeling rather similar sentiments, but, not knowing Elizaveta very well, couldn't really say so. He tugged awkwardly at the costume he was currently wearing. Of course, it would be way too tight. And short. He never should have agreed to this.

Of course, when he had, he had been rather desperate to keep Alfred from finding out about his relationship with Gilbert. Which had failed miserably, but they had still made a deal with Elizaveta, leading them to their current situation: taking semi-pornographic pictures for her in the instrument room. (Elizaveta had insisted on that room; she said it had the best lighting.) She had called up Gilbert to inform him that she finally had all the supplies for their photo shoot the night before and that she would be coming over to their house the next day. Gilbert and Matthew had agreed, mostly because they just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

Especially when Elizaveta had shown up with six suitcases filled with kinky costumes, props, and camera equipment. _Especially_ when she had opened the suitcases and they had seen just what they were going to end up wearing.

"Loosen up, guys, these shots are turning out awkward."

"How can we _not_ feel awkward?" Gilbert snapped. "This is humiliating!"

Matthew was tempted to say that Gilbert's outfit was hardly humiliating. Not like his, anyway. Elizaveta had forced them to take several role-playing shots in costume. Right now, they were shooting "master and maid" pictures. Gilbert was obviously the master, and Matthew was stuck in the short, tight, revealing maid's dress. Gilbert was the lucky one in only a suit.

"Hey, I kept up my end of the deal, you have to keep yours!" Elizaveta said gleefully. "Matt, undo a few buttons. And Gil, put your right hand down his dress!"

"Alfred still found out, because of your stupid pictures," Gilbert growled, both of them obeying Elizaveta anyway. The sooner she had her photos the sooner they could stop this humiliation. "How do you call that keeping your end of the deal?"

"Because I said I wouldn't tell anyone, and I didn't." Elizaveta gripped her camera tightly, her grin stretching even further. "Okay, that's the last of the costume pics, now let's move on to the steamy ones!"

Matthew wasn't sure how to feel about that. He was grateful to get out of the dress, as it was rather uncomfortable, and a girl's outfit to boot, but taking sexy pictures for someone else's use sounded like the most embarrassing thing he would ever do in his life. At least it was almost over.

"Remember, nothing pornographic," Gilbert warned. "And we get to keep our pants on!" Elizaveta pouted.

"Are you sure you don't want to change your minds?"

"Yes!" Gilbert and Matthew both shouted at the same time.

"And if you ever show these to anyone I'll kill you," Gilbert added. Elizaveta pretended not to hear him.

"All right, boys," she said and Matthew swore he could see her licking her lips. She had only one chance to photograph a couple this cute and she was going to milk it for all of its worth. "It's time to strip."

* * *

Matthew had been right. _Nothing_ could possibly be more embarrassing than taking sexy pictures for Elizaveta, especially when she gave him directions like "Matt, try to look more horny!". She had giggled madly the whole time and kept commenting on his blush and how cute it was, which led to Gilbert repeatedly ordering her to "stop checking out my boyfriend, dammit!", which only led her to squealing about the cuteness even more, giving him a nasty headache.

Five hours after Elizaveta had shown up, they were finally, _finally_ done and Matthew was able to put his baggy jeans and sweatshirt back on. He had never been so happy to be clothed in his entire life. Still grinning like a patient in an insane asylum, Elizaveta was packing up all of the costumes and props.

"Why do you even have all this shit anyway?" Gilbert asked, kicking one of the closed suitcases. "Do you dress up for your precious Roddy?"

"No!" Elizaveta said forcefully, blushing. "And don't call him that!"

"He's my cousin, I'll call him whatever the hell I want."

"Yeah, well, he's _my_ fiancé!" Elizaveta retorted. Matthew was too tired to do anything more than sink on a couch and watch the petty fight with interest. He hadn't known that Elizaveta was engaged. Their fight was growing in volume (and stupidity), worsening his headache. They didn't stop until the phone began ringing. Matthew made a mental note to get aspirin after Elizaveta left. Gilbert paused in the middle of his insult and picked up the phone.

"What?" His face instantly brightened with a look that Matthew had learned adorned his face whenever he had come up with some sort of devious plan. "Why _Roddy_, hello~!"

Elizaveta's face instantly paled.

"Gilbert!" she hissed. "Roderich _cannot_ find out that I'm here!"

"Yeah, she's here," Gilbert said, apparently answering the question his cousin had just asked him. Elizaveta smacked his arm. "She's right between my legs, giving me a blowjob."

"What!" Elizaveta shrieked. Matthew shot up from his chair, unsure of what exactly he should do as Elizaveta tackled Gilbert for the phone, desperately trying to wrestle it away from him. "I am not!" she shouted at the phone, which Gilbert was keeping out of her reach, completely unaware of the compromising position they had managed to get into. Matthew felt a rush of anger fill him as the jealousy took over all rational thought. "Don't listen to him, Roderich, he's _lying_!"

Somehow, during the fight, one of the two managed to hit the speakerphone button, filling the room with a smooth sounding voice that dripped with aristocracy and Matthew instantly got the feeling that he was being talked down on, even though Gilbert's cousin didn't even know of his existence.

"Calm down, Elizaveta. I stopped listening to Gilbert when I was eight. But really, Gilbert, you shouldn't make up lies like that about a man's fiancée," the voice scolded.

"Now she's straddling me," Gilbert said in response, grinning. After all the torture of taking those pictures, he was really enjoying embarrassing Elizaveta in front of her precious fiancé. Too bad he didn't notice the murderous glare his boyfriend was sending his way.

"He's lying again, I am not!" Elizaveta insisted before looking down and realizing that she was, in fact, straddling Gilbert, pinning him to the ground. "Oh my God, I am!" she shrieked before throwing herself off of him, letting Matthew feel a tiny bit better. But not much.

"Elizaveta, what are you even doing at that cretin's house?" the voice asked, apparently deciding to ignore the fact that his fiancée had just admitted to straddling another man.

"Hey, Roddy, 'that cretin' can still hear you."

"I am well aware of that fact, Gilbert."

Gilbert pouted. Matthew might've enjoyed the rare sight if he still weren't furious about Gilbert getting so close with another girl.

"I had to talk to Ludwig about something," Elizaveta lied smoothly, "and I unfortunately ran into _him_." She punctuated her word with a glare in Gilbert's direction. He was still grinning, and Matthew was very tempted to smack that grin off of his face.

"Don't worry, Elizaveta, I'll come pick you up right away." A look of sheer panic crossed Elizaveta's face and before she could protest, there was a click which announced that Roderich had hung up.

"Shit!" Elizaveta hissed, a look of horror still on her face. "How am I supposed to get this stuff home without him noticing!" she wailed, seemingly talking to herself. Gilbert laughed and Elizaveta delivered a hard punch to Gilbert's stomach. He doubled over in pain, swearing loudly. Matthew suddenly felt a lot better.

"You deserve it!" she yelled as she got up and quickly started shoving the rest of her things which were still lying out into a suitcase. "I'm going to have to leave my stuff here, but I'll be back to pick it up as soon as I can, and if you mess with it or take anything I will kill you!" Neither of them doubted it, what with the rather scary look on her face. She popped open her camera and carefully removed the film, tucking it into the front of her dress. After that, she threw herself down into an empty couch and fumed as she waited for Roderich to pick her up. Gilbert was still lying on the floor, trying to recover from Elizaveta's punch and Matthew was on the other couch, also still angry.

Fifteen tense minutes later, a man walked into the room. He had dark brown hair, glasses, and a mole on his chin and was wearing a dark blue suit. Just looking at him, Matthew could understand why Gilbert didn't like his cousin; not that he was feeling bad for Gilbert (who was still lying on the floor), he was still pretty pissed off at him, but he couldn't help but think that it must've been pretty terrible growing up with a cousin who seemed to look down on everything.

"Come along, Elizaveta," he said, offering his arm to her. She quickly got to her feet and accepted it. Ever since he had entered the room, Elizaveta's demeanor seemed to have changed, Matthew noticed, to a much more quiet and submissive one. He briefly wondered if she really loved him or if this was some sort of arranged marriage. Gilbert's family was rich, they probably still held on to old traditions of marrying for the family's sake. He felt rather bad for Elizaveta, even though she was the one who had forced him through five hours of torture. Five hours was nothing in comparison to spending your whole life with a spouse you didn't love.

On their way out of the door, Roderich paused to look at the piano sitting in the center of the room and scoffed.

"What a shame. That Fazioli is going to waste here."

Gilbert quickly sat up, glaring at his cousin.

"Fuck off!" he growled. "I can play just as well as you can." Roderich sneered.

"You can't even compare yourself with me. I'm leagues above you."

"Prove it." Gilbert glared at his cousin, the challenge in place. Roderich let go of Elizaveta and walked over to the less nice, but still expensive Steinway sitting next to the Fazioli piano, lifting the fall and running his fingers over the keys before sitting down on the bench.

"I'll let you choose," he said, a full condescending smirk on his face. "I wouldn't want to pick something too hard for you."

"Mazeppa. Etude No. four," Gilbert ground out, resisting the urge to punch Roderich in the face. Roderich looked slightly surprised by the choice before smiling.

"Fine with me. I'll crush you."

"And I'll wipe that fucking mole off your face." With that, Gilbert sat down at the Fazioli's bench before gently lifting the fall. With a look exchanged between them, the two began.

The music began softly, gently, but quickly escalated into something dark and fierce. The notes came, in fast succession, the music pouring out from the pianos as the two experts played. Roderich played with a frown of concentration on his face, Gilbert with a smirk. Matthew was on the edge of his seat, watching his lover play. He was bent over the keyboard, a wolfish smirk, one he had never seen before, on his face. His hands flew over the keys, hitting them expertly, the look of passion for the instrument and the music swallowing him. Droplets of sweat were rolling down his face and dripping onto the keys.

The two played, the music increasing in difficulty before suddenly lapsing into a gentler pace, after which the music only quickened again. Matthew was completely enthralled by the music and Gilbert. He was still smirking, even harder than before. Roderich was now biting his lip, the frown etched on his face growing ever deeper. It was clear that he was tiring, and Gilbert was only gaining power from the high the music was giving him. They continued, the music building in intensity until they had finally reached the last chord. And then...

A sour note.

Neither took notice at first, both breathing hard, their breaths coming in pants, sweat covering both of their faces. A look of pure shock took over Roderich's face as he realized that a wrong note had been played, and it had come from underneath his fingertips. Gilbert, as well as Matthew and Elizaveta looked shocked. Roderich's face quickly took on a horrified expression.

"W-what was that," Gilbert panted, "a-about crushing me?"

Furiously, Roderich slammed the Steinway's lid shut, before taking Elizaveta by the arm and wordlessly storming out of the room. Gilbert let out a tired laugh before slumping against his piano. His earlier anger and jealously completely dissipated, Matthew was still staring at him in awe. Not only was the music the best he'd ever heard, he had never seen Gilbert completely lose himself in his piano before. He'd seen him play, but never with this much passion and intensity.

In a word, it had been hot.

He quickly joined Gilbert on the piano bench before pressing his lips hard against his.

"Gilbert," he murmured while he kissed him repeatedly. "That was amazing!"

"Yep," Gilbert agreed. "I'm just that awesome." And with that, he took Matthew by the hand and they quickly retreated back to their bedroom.

* * *

***I really do love Austria. I didn't want to make him a jerk, but it was unavoidable. It's important to the plot. Sort of.**

***By the way, the Prussian Quartets are real. And awesome. However, they are written for a string quartet (two violins, a cello, and a viola), not a piano quartet (a violin, a piano, a cello, and a viola), like the Bad Touch have in this fic. For fanfiction's sake, let's just pretend Mozart wrote the Allegro piece for a piano quartet. An example of the piece they will be playing can be found here, by removing the spaces in the link:**

**h t t p : / / www . youtube . com / watch ? v = uCVjP - Ewgwk **

***Fazioli pianos are very expensive and top notch pianos. Their price is in the six-figure range, costing as much as $400,000. **

***Steinway pianos have a much lower price range, but are still very high quality pianos.**

***Mazeppa is evil. Just watching the video of the guy playing it hurt my hands. The piece can be found here: **

**h t t p : / / www . youtube . com / watch ? v = SfN7xf6JymQ**

**By the way, I made a few, minor changes to Chapter Sixteen. It won't really change much for the story, there's just a few lines extra. My author notes took up a lot of space this time.**

**AND HOLY BEJESUS THIS ENDED UP LONG!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N I just wanted to let you all know, there are hints of other past pairings in this chapter, but don't worry! The main pairings still stand.  
**

**Thank you for reviewing, voting, and please enjoy. :)**

* * *

It was on Monday, two days later, that Elizaveta returned for her props. She'd found them on their way out of school and informed them that she was coming over. She still looked angry about what had happened on Saturday and Matthew felt a burst of schadenfreude every time Elizaveta shot Gilbert a glare just while uttering that one sentence. After that, she disappeared, heading toward a black Porsche, from which a well dressed chauffeur stepped out to hold open the back door for her. She climbed in and the chauffeur quickly drove off.

"Nice car," Matthew said, trying to break the odd silence that had descended on them as Elizaveta had left.

"It's Roddy's," Gilbert said quietly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "He insists on sending a car to pick her up and drop her off everywhere. It's his way of making sure he knows where she's been and that she doesn't go places he doesn't want her to go to."

"That's creepy," Matthew said.

"Just because they're engaged doesn't mean he can treat her like property," Gilbert muttered. "Controlling asshole."

"Is it an arranged marriage ?" Matthew asked. Gilbert nodded once.

"My grandfather and her grandfather wanted to merge our two companies and they decided to do it through marriage. Originally, they were going to have their children marry, but since they both only had sons, that plan fell apart. After that, they decided to just have the grandkids marry. She's been engaged to him since she she was twelve." There was distinctive undertone to Gilbert's voice, one that Matthew couldn't place. Even though he couldn't quite tell what it was, it bothered him.

"That's awful," he said after a moment.

"She's had a crush on him since she was eight. She was ecstatic when she found out." There it was again, that undertone. Matthew was starting to feel really disturbed by it now. Even if he couldn't recognize it, he knew that it was something to watch out for.

"Do all rich people do that? Get engaged so young?" Matthew noticed that Gilbert tensed at the question and felt bad asking. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic.

"A lot of them do, to keep the money in the family, or make sure that the family gets even richer by combining fortunes."

"Do you have a fiancée?" Matthew asked quietly, avoiding looking at Gilbert. He couldn't help but ask. His sensitivity to the subject had made him suspect that Gilbert did. The mere idea of Gilbert having a fiancée that he would be forced to leave him for made Matthew's stomach lurch unpleasantly.

"I used to," Gilbert answered curtly. Matthew glanced at Gilbert sideways and saw that he was frowning deeply.

"What happened?" Matthew heard the words escape his mouth and nearly cursed at his stupidity. It was painfully obvious that Gilbert did not want to talk about it and he mentally punched himself for pushing the subject. The car pulled to a stop and Matthew realized they had already made it back to the house. He reached for the car door to exit when Gilbert's bitter voice stopped him, that undertone back, which Matthew was finally starting to recognize.

"My father is the older son, and I was supposed to inherit the company after him. But after I started playing the piano, I told my grandfather that all I wanted to do was play the piano. He decided that if I wasn't going to be committed to the company, I shouldn't be the heir, not to mention Roderich had always shown a lot more interest in the company than I ever did. He decided that Roderich was a better choice, and so they broke off the engagement between Elizaveta and me and those two were engaged instead." Gilbert got out of the car as he spoke, shutting the car door forcefully. "That's it."

He walked away, leaving Matthew alone in the car.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, over and over. He knew he shouldn't have asked.

* * *

Gilbert walked away from the car and Matthew feeling a myriad of emotions. He felt guilty about getting angry with Matthew over something that wasn't his fault, but the anger from the memories of what had happened years ago overwhelmed the guilt. He stormed to the instrument room, where all of Elizaveta's suitcases were still lying. She was already there, checking them all.

"Don't worry, we didn't take anything. You still have all of Roderich's favorites."

"Shut up," she growled as she slammed the suitcase lid shut, looking up at him from the floor. "I already told you, I don't dress up for him or do anything like that for him. He's a gentleman."

Gilbert's only response was a snort of disbelief.

"Oh, yes, it's very gentlemanly of him to fucking spy on you," he said sarcastically. Elizaveta flushed angrily and stood.

"Roderich doesn't spy on me," she insisted.

"Then what you do call watching your every move and fucking _tracking_ every place you go?"

"He just wants to make sure I'm safe, he actually cares about me!" Elizaveta shot back. "I know that's hard for you to understand, actually giving a shit about somebody besides yourself!"

"Like he's any better!" Gilbert retorted. "He couldn't care less about you, all he gives a shit about is the fucking company, it's the only damn reason anyone would marry a bitch like you." Pain exploded on the left side of Gilbert's face as Elizaveta slapped him. Hard.

"Why do you have to be such an ass?" she exploded. "I know he took your company from you, but it wasn't Roderich's fault; why do you have to try to ruin things for him? You have no reason to resent him!"

"That's not why I hate him!" Gilbert shouted. "I don't give a shit about the fucking company, I never did, it was always about y––" Gilbert cut himself off, covering his mouth with his hand. Elizaveta stared at him wordlessly, pure shock adorning her face. The silence seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, Gilbert gained control over his words again.

"Go."

"Gil––"

"Just take your shit and go back to him," Gilbert muttered as he left the room. "It's what you've always wanted." He'd made it down a few hallways before he finally exploded, slamming his foot into a wall.

"Fuck!" he screamed, both to vent out his frustration and because kicking the wall had really hurt. Swearing under his breath, he limped back to his room. It was a long, painful walk, and by the time he had reached his room, he had calmed down a little. He was still pretty angry, but the earlier guilt about how he'd treated Matthew was starting to surface. He slowly opened his door only to find that Matthew wasn't there. Gilbert stared into the empty room silently for a few moments, unsure of what to do.

He walked back to the car first, to see if Matthew had even left it. He wasn't there. Gilbert moved on to the guest room across the hall from his own bedroom, where he found Matthew sitting in the window seat, his hugging his legs to his chest.

"Mattie," he stated, nervously. He took a few steps into the room before he stopped, nervously. His anger had further dissipated and the guilt was starting to take over the majority of his current emotions. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier, I––"

"You were in love with her, weren't you," he said quietly. Both of them knew it wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Gilbert answered softly. "But you can't blame me. I was raised with her. As far back as I can remember, my parents had always told me that she was going to be my wife. And I already told you, I was desperate for their approval when I was little. They were always so happy whenever they talked about us getting married, I couldn't help but try to get close to her." He took another step toward Matthew before awkwardly stopping again. Matthew didn't even turn around or look at him.

"You still have feelings for her, don't you," Matthew said, even more quietly than before. Again, it wasn't a question. Gilbert swallowed nervously.

"I still care about her a lot," he admitted. "But I love _you_, Mattie."

"I want to be alone right now," he replied. Gilbert was unsure of what to do, so he left, shutting the door softly behind himself before running for his own room. He threw himself down on his bed before he grabbed his phone from his pocket and hit the second number in his speed dial, completely abandoning all pride.

"Francis!" he cried out as soon as he heard the click that meant he had picked up. "I had a fight with Mattie." He cringed as he realized how feminine that had sounded. And just how girly he was being right now.

"...Okay," Francis' voice came out of the phone. "And?"

"Well, what do I do?"

"What do you normally do when you two have had fights?"

Gilbert thought for a moment. Then a moment longer.

"...We've never really fought before."

"You haven't?" came Francis' surprised voice. "Well, that's unhealthy."

"Really?" Gilbert asked, seriously doubting the Frenchman's words. "How the fuck is that unhealthy? Isn't it better not to fight?"

"Well, it's not good to fight all of the time, but it's also not good to never fight. That just means someone's always caving in and unhappy." Gilbert froze.

"So does that mean that Mattie's unhappy?"

"I don't know," Francis said. Gilbert glared at the phone. He'd called Francis for help, and so far, he was being very unhelpful.

"What should I do?" he asked again.

"Well, what did you fight about?" asked Francis.

"He asked about Elizaveta."

"Aaah. So he found out about the engagement?"

"Yeah."

"And your lingering feelings?"

"...Yeah."

"I see." There was a long pause.

"That's all you have to say?" Gilbert cried out in frustration. "C'mon, I need your help here." He heard Francis sigh over the phone.

"So Matthieu is worried that you have feelings for Elizaveta and that you do not love him."

"I guess?"

"So, in that case, what you have to do is show him that he is the one you truly care about. Do something special for him. Something that shows how much you love him."

"Okay." Gilbert could nearly hear Francis smiling over the phone.

"You know, Gilbert, you're cute when you're acting like a teenage girl."

"Shut up," Gilbert growled before hanging up. Something to show Matthew how much he loved him...

* * *

Matthew stared miserably into a bowl of cereal the next morning. He hadn't seen Gilbert all night and was unsure of what, exactly, was happening between them. His mind, which was in a pessimistic mode, kept tossing around the idea that Gilbert really didn't care, and had spent the night thinking about his old love Elizaveta. Nothing could have been farther from the truth, but Matthew had no way of knowing that.

At least, until a small yellow puff ball flew past him. He blinked and looked at Gilbird, who had dropped an envelope in a corner of the kitchen and was now flying around in circles.

"Dammit, Gilbird, that was not awesome at all!" yelled Gilbert as he entered the kitchen. He scooped up the envelope before grabbing Gilbird out of the air.

"First, you were supposed to awesomely land on his head, and then, you were supposed to give him the awesome envelope!" Gilbert scolded the little yellow bird. Matthew watched, unsure of how to react. Gilbert sighed and gave the envelope back to the bird. "Now, Gilbird, try it again, but this time, do it awesomely!" He threw the bird up in to the air and it started flying again.

It zoomed right past Matthew and dropped the enveloped in the sink. Gilbert sighed and got the envelope himself.

"Fine, be unawesome," he muttered. He walked over to Matthew and handed him the envelope himself. Matthew panicked inside. What if it was a letter of eviction? Oh, God, what would he do? He already didn't have a home.

"Mattie! You're supposed to open it." Well, if it was a letter of eviction, the least Matthew could do was accept it with dignity. He opened the envelope to find a small, handmade card in it.

"_Mattie_," the card read. "_Will you awesomely go to prom with me_?" Matthew looked up at Gilbert in confusion.

"Whaaa?" he said quite eloquently.

"Is my handwriting that bad?" Gilbert asked, frowning, and taking the card out of Matthew's hand. "It says 'Mattie, will you awesomely go to prom with me?'."

"I could read it," Matthew said. "But... Are you serious?" Gilbert frowned again.

"Of course I am. We're seniors! We have to go!"

"But if we go together, people will know that we're...gay." Gilbert shrugged.

"So?"

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Maybe a little, but I don't want to go at all if I can't go with my awesome lover."

Matthew was blushing. And grinning like an idiot, even though he was trying to hold back. He couldn't believe that Gilbert was willing to throw away his hard-earned reputation and become known as the only out couple at their school. And he was doing it all for him. Matthew knew that he should still be mad at Gilbert. After all, his boyfriend had feelings for a woman. Yet how did he always unintentionally know just how to make him happy? After a moment of conflict, he threw his arms around Gilbert.

"Dammit, you always know how to get me," he mumbled against Gilbert's neck. Gilbert returned the embrace and they stayed that way for a few moments before Gilbert decided to speak.

"Mattie, I promise you, that thing with Elizaveta was just kid puppy love. The only person I've ever really cared about is you."

"I know," Matthew murmured. The past few months had shown him that clearly; he shouldn't have had such a drop in faith just because he found out that Gilbert loved someone else in the past. That was the past, and there was no reason to cling to it. He sighed in happiness, feeling much better.

* * *

After school that day, Antonio and Francis met with Gilbert and Matthew at their place to practice.

The competition was on the 22nd of May. They had just over a month to prepare. They'd already planned to rehearse the entire day, every day, of every weekend and had scheduled an hour of rehearsal after school twice a week The festival was only for high schoolers; they just had this one chance to compete and the Quartet were determined to place, if not win.

Antonio and Francis were also Mozart fans and so had eagerly agreed to play the piece Gilbert wanted. It was only a few hours after their photo shoot with Elizaveta ended that Gilbert had called them up and the preparations had began. Matthew was getting more excited about the festival with each passing day. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis had attended the festival in the past as spectators and they happily shared details of the whole thing. It wasn't just the direct competition of music; they also had some colleges there, who held small exhibits on their music programs and information about music scholarships.

This part of the festival excited Antonio the most. Matthew knew his family was poor and couldn't afford to send him to college; Antonio was really counting on doing well at the festival, not only because he wanted to win, but because it was the only way he'd be able to go into music as a career.

Matthew was certain that this was one of the reasons Gilbert had chosen their piece from the Prussian quartets. The quartets were written to feature a cellist and Matthew had a suspicion that Gilbert wanted to give his friend a boost in hopes that it might help him land a scholarship. He couldn't help but feel immensely proud of Gilbert, doing something so selfless. He had been sure that Gilbert would pick a piece featuring the piano to showcase his own "awesomeness". He had been pleasantly surprised that he had instead chosen to help a friend.

Matthew himself had been applying to Cal States throughout the year. He would have liked to go to a UC, but his current financial situation made that impossible. He was majoring in violin and had already gotten accepted into a few schools and he knew that with the little money he had for college (Gilbert had paid back the bail money a few days after the whole incident) he would be able to get his college education.

Gilbert had already decided that he didn't care for the college system and was planning on trying to play solo piano and compose his own pieces. He had enough money and talent to do so; he'd played some of his original music for Matthew, and it was all very well written. Gilbert had a huge amount of natural talent, not to mention the creativity, drive, and passion to pull it off.

"That's what makes me more awesome than Roddy," Gilbert had told Matthew. "He can play a piece perfectly the first time he sees it, but he never writes his own music and he couldn't rework a piece if his ugly mole depended on it. Plus, he's a jackass."

Matthew had to agree with that. Playing music wasn't terribly difficult; all you had to do was follow the instructions in the notes. Composing music, on the other hand, was incredibly difficult. He'd tried to write original music with his violin. The results hadn't been very good. That had only strengthened the respect he held for Gilbert's musical abilities. He was truly endowed, particularly since Gilbert had told him he'd only been seriously playing for a few years.

All in all, it was a busy month. It passed by in a blur of rehearsals and after what seemed like only a week or two, the competition was tomorrow. Matthew and Gilbert both practiced their pieces by themselves before going to bed, both of them excited but nervous.

"Hey, Jailbird."

"What, Gil?"

"Wanna have a good luck fuck?"

"...Did you have to say it like that?"

"Yes!"

"...Fine."

* * *

***By the way, the festival is totally made up. I don't know if they even have things like that, so I just made one up and based it off of a theatre festival I went to. If there really is something called the Young Musician's Festival or similar, I didn't rip it off, I swear!**

***Also, a Cal State is a shortened version of California State University. They are one of the three public college systems, and are below UCs and above community colleges. **

***A UC is a University of California, and is the highest tier in the three tier public college system of which Cal States are the second tier. **

***The Prussian Quartets were written for one of the kings of Prussia, who was a cellist, so the cello part is really pronounced.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N Oh my God, I never thought I'd get to the competition. These chapters are the ones I've envisioned since the very beginning! I'm so excited to be finally writing them! Without further ado, here it is, part one of the Young Musician's Festival!**

**Thank you for reviewing and please enjoy. :)**

* * *

Early the next morning, Antonio and Francis arrived at Gilbert's house to head out to the festival. It was held at a small college some distance away, so they were forced to leave early make it there on time. Before leaving, they got their things ; the suits were all in their separate bags, hanging in Francis' car, the cooler with drinks and food, which they brought because the food at the festival was awful, not to mention overpriced, was in the trunk, and the instruments were all loaded. Gilbert looked longingly over at his beloved Fazioli as they left the house. If there was one disadvantage to being a pianist, it was the instrument's size and weight; it made it nearly impossible to transport, leaving Gilbert forced to always play on a foreign instrument.

They piled into Francis' car, Matthew and Gilbert in the back seat and the other two members of the Quartet in the front. Since it was early in the morning, Matthew quickly fell asleep, and stayed asleep for most of the trip. By eight thirty, they'd made it to the festival. The first round was scheduled at nine o' clock, which gave them enough time to tune their instruments, which had been jostled and thrown out of tune during the long car ride. This was the only round of the competition that didn't require proper dress, so most of the contestants were casually dressed.

The first round took place in several of the college's smaller theatres and was barred from the public. Gilbert had explained to Matthew that, since anyone eighteen and under could compete; these first cuts ensured that the part of the competition that was available to the public only showed the serious competitors. None of the Quartet were very worried about this stage. They played their piece and enjoyed the rest of the performances (most of them, anyway). An hour after everyone had gone through the first round a list was put up of the people who'd made the first cut. None of the Quartet were very surprised to see that they had passed the first round.

Between the posting of the results and the second round, there was an hour of break time. The four friends ate the lunch that they had packed and then decided to go look at some of the exhibits accompanying the festival. They had just turned a corner when Matthew thought he saw a familiar blond and jumped back behind the corner, pressing himself flat against the wall, his heart pounding.

"Jailbird? You okay?" Gilbert asked, looking concerned. Matthew laughed nervously.

"I just thought I saw Alfred," he admitted. "It surprised me." Gilbert frowned at that.

"It's weird, I got that feeling, too," Antonio agreed. "I keep thinking I recognize people here." Francis nodded in agreement. Gilbert, however, was staring around the corner.

"That _is_ Alfred," he announced. "And he's not alone." Matthew jostled him to get a good view, not having had noticed anybody but Alfred. Francis and Antonio looked, too.

"Oh my," Francis purred. "Who is that delightful man over there with your brother?"

Matthew turned to him, a look of horror on his face.

"That would be my stepfather," he announced slowly. Francis made a noise of appreciation.

"He looks a bit young to be your stepfather," Antonio commented. Matthew flushed lightly.

"My mom's older than him." His voice got quieter. "A lot older."

Francis' grin widened.

"Your mother's not bad, either. And she's not opposed to relationships with younger men." Francis was now openly leering. "I wonder how they'd feel about a threesome..."

"Oh, God," Matthew muttered in revulsion. "That's _disgusting_."

Francis' fantasy was abruptly cut off when Gilbert's fist collided with Francis' jaw.

"Don't say creepy things about Mattie's family," he growled. Francis pouted.

"Fine," he huffed.

"Amigos, it's almost time for the second round," Antonio informed them as he checked his watch. "We have to get changed and find the room."

"Ah, yes, Antonio," Francis murmured, sidling up to Antonio. "Let's get changed together~"

Gilbert punched him again.

"Can't you curb your addiction for just one day?" he asked in annoyance. Francis pouted again.

"Spoilsport."

* * *

After changing into their suits they made their way to the auditorium where the next round took place. There were fifty-seven entries after the first cut and this one would cut it down to twenty-five. After that was the final round, where the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth place winners would be chosen. As they walked to the auditorium, Matthew noticed Gilbert was getting jumpy. He was looking around and covering his face with his hand and nearly broke into a run when they found the room they were looking for. After they got backstage with the other musicians, Matthew asked him what was wrong.

"I keep seeing people I know!" Gilbert hissed in response before burying his face in his hands. "I swear I've seen at least half of the senior class here! Everyone's gonna find out I like classical music! My awesome reputation's gonna be ruined!"

"Well, school's almost over and then you'll never see those people again. Who cares what they think?" Matthew reasoned, refraining from telling Gilbert that he was going to ruin his "awesome" reputation anyway since he was planning on coming out of the closet at prom. Gilbert only groaned.

"This is not awesome at all," he moaned. "I bet this is all Roddy's fault!" Matthew raised an eyebrow at Gilbert.

"How could that possibly be Roderich's fault?"

"He probably got his weird friend Vash to spread it to everyone that I was going to be here in revenge for beating him at the piano! It's the only explanation!"

"Pull yourself together," Francis ordered before hitting Gilbert with his viola bow. Gilbert would have retorted but the commentator out on the stage had begun a speech. The real competition was about to start.

The entries were ordered randomly and the finished contestants were sent to a different room after their performance and the area backstage slowly emptied. The Bad Touch Quartet waited as more and more performances went by. Finally, only one other person was left in the room with them, a thin, short Asian boy with long brown hair tied back into a ponytail, who seemed to be a solo entry. He was clutching an instrument that none of them had ever seen before and was wearing what Matthew assumed to be the traditional dress of his country, a red long shirt over black pants, all seemingly made of silk. Matthew was about to ask him just what instrument he had when one of the staff members of the festival peered out from the doorway.

"Yao Wang, you're up next," she whispered to him loudly. Gripping his instrument tighter, the boy, Yao, stood up and went onstage. The commentator announced his name, the instrument, an erhu, and the piece. Matthew listened with interest as Yao played. The instrument and the piece sounded very traditional and, though Matthew didn't know anything about the Chinese instrument, he could still tell that Yao was a very skilled musician. His piece came to an end and the audience applauded enthusiastically. The worker from earlier popped her head back in and beckoned to them.

"You guys are up," she announced. The group stood up and Matthew took a deep breath as he followed the rest of the Quartet out onstage, adrenaline running through him in tandem with nervousness. Not only was his family floating around, which meant he might run into them and some sort of confrontation, but this was the first time Matthew had ever played for a large audience, or ever been onstage, making him anxious about whether or not he could perform with the pressure of hundreds of people watching. He took another calming breath as the commentator looked at his notes before introducing them.

"And last we have...The Bad Touch Quadruple?" Francis reached over and whacked Gilbert in the face with his bow.

"You idiot! I keep telling you it's called a quartet!"

"But quadruple sounds more awesome," Gilbert argued. Murmuring and some awkward laughter came from the audience.

"It's Quartet," Francis said to the commentator, who gave them a weird look but nodded and continued with the introduction.

"Gilbert Weillschmidt on piano, Matthew Williams on violin, Francis Bonnefoy on viola, and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo on cello, playing the Allegro of Mozart's Quartet No. 23 in F Major."

The audience applauded awkwardly. Having a fight onstage was probably not helping their scores, Matthew reflected as he raised his violin to his chin, as did Francis with his viola. Gilbert sat down at the piano bench, feeling slightly better about having to leave his Fazioli behind when he saw that it was a Yamaha, and Antonio sat down on the stool provided before picking up his cello. After a brief pause, they began to play.

As soon as they began, Matthew's earlier nervousness disappeared. He had gone over this piece again and again and he knew every note and movement. The Quartet played their piece expertly, and when they were done, the audience applauded just as enthusiastically as they had for Yao earlier.

* * *

After a short briefing from the festival employees telling them that the results of the second round would be posted in an hour and what to expect then, the contestants were allowed out to see their family and friends gathered. As soon as they had seen the people gathered outside, Antonio let out a cry of delight and went running off. The rest of the Quartet followed at a more normal pace.

"LOVI~!" Antonio cried out before glomping the Italian who was standing with his brother and Ludwig, apparently having come to watch the competition.

"What the fuck? Get off me, you bastard!" Lovino shrieked in response as several people turned to stare.

"Aww, but Lovi, you came to see me! That's so cute~!" he cooed as he hugged the struggling Lovino even tighter, who simply scoffed in response.

"I didn't come here for you, idiot!" Lovino insisted. "Feli wanted to come and the potato freak was giving him a ride so I had to come along so that bastard wouldn't rape my brother in a parking lot."

"Ve~, but brother, I thought you said you wanted to come to see Antonio play the cello? Because I read your diary and you always write about how sexy it is even if you like it when he plays his guitar better and––" Feliciano's sentence was cut off as Lovino shrieked and lunged at him, managing to break Antonio's grip.

"It's not a diary, dammit, it's a journal! _And why the hell were you reading it_?" he screamed as Feliciano went running and hid behind Ludwig's back. Lovino only chased him in circles around Ludwig, shouting all manner of threats and swear words, with Antonio running happily after them, saying over and over "Lovi~! You're so red! You look like a cute little tomato!". People were covering children's ears and backing away until the group ended up estranged from the throng of people. Lovino eventually tired himself out running and sank onto the ground, scowling, as Antonio sat down beside him and hugged him again, petting his hair. Feliciano was clinging to Ludwig's arm happily, though the look on Ludwig's face clearly read "Why me?". Francis was just grinning, holding up his new iPhone and recording the whole event.

Matthew blinked a few times before shaking his head and deciding to pretend that hadn't just happened. He turned back to Gilbert and was shocked to see him staring at Alfred standing a few feet behind them, cracking his knuckles nervously, avoiding all eye contact.

"Umm, Matt, c-can I talk to you?"

Matthew opened his mouth to inform Alfred that he had absolutely _nothing_ to say to him when Gilbert pushed him forward slightly.

"Go ahead, Alfie, he's all yours," Gilbert said before he retreated to where the rest of the group had ended up, centered around the sulking Lovino, ignoring the glare Matthew was shooting his direction.

"What is it?" he snapped instead. Alfred looked down at his beaten up Converse, still avoiding looking directly at him.

"I came here today because I really need to tell you something. I'm really sorry about everything that I did," he said quietly, fidgeting nervously, "and said. I really don't mind that you're... um," his voice dropped lower, "gay and stuff. Um, I've been seeing a therapist, and she helped me realize that I wasn't really upset because you're... that way. I was just upset that you'd never told me yourself and I was taking that out on you and Gilbert and I'm sorry. You're still my big brother no matter what and I... I missed you." Alfred risked looking up for a second to try to gauge the look on his brother's face before quickly turning away. "And you don't have to forgive me 'cause I was being a real jerk––"

"Yeah, you were," Matthew interjected. Alfred winced.

"You don't have to forgive me," he repeated, "But please don't hate me. Because I love you. You're my brother."

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek. He was still very angry with Alfred; his actions and words had wounded him deeply. But at least he had apologized and was trying to get help. Not to mention he had majorly humbled himself and, from the look on his face, truly regretted his actions. Matthew felt his anger soften a fraction; it was tiny, but still, it was progress. Even though his family's first reaction to his homosexuality had devastated him, they were still his family and Matthew still loved them, even though they had hurt him. They were the closest people to him and Matthew did want to reconcile with them, particularly with his mother, whom he had missed the most. It would take a long time, Matthew knew, for him to feel fully comfortable with and trust his family again, but he wanted to see that day, and if his family was willing to work things out, he was, too.

"I won't forgive you," Matthew started.

"That's okay!" Alfred interrupted, "I wouldn't forgive me, either."

"You didn't let me finish. I said I won't forgive you anytime soon. I'm still furious about that stunt you pulled with those pictures," Matthew said, punctuating his sentence with a glare. Alfred looked away again, ashamed. "I'll try to forgive you, but I'm not making any promises." Tears gathered in Alfred's eyes and he threw his arms around Matthew's neck, hugging him tightly.

"Maaaatt!" he wailed. "You're the best big brother _ever_!" Matthew let his brother hug him, feeling rather conflicted; he half wanted to hug his brother back but kicking him in the stomach while there was an opening in revenge for those awful pictures sounded pretty good right now, too. Matthew resisted that urge and did nothing; after a few moments, Alfred let go, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Mom and Arthur and Peter are here, too, and I know they really want to see you," Alfred said. "Should I go get them?" Matthew nodded. "Okay! Be right back!" Alfred sped off and quickly returned, dragging his mother and Peter by the hands while Arthur followed reluctantly after.

"MATTIE!" Peter screamed as soon as he saw Matthew and broke off from Alfred, running at Matthew full speed and knocking him over with the force of his hug.

"Peter!" his mother exclaimed before dropping Alfred's hand and rushing over to where he lay, unable to breathe, with Peter hugging him tightly. "Don't hurt him!" Arthur rushed over, too, and, after Peter finally let go, they helped Matthew to his feet. Arthur then took Peter by the hand and led him a few feet away, to where Alfred was observing to give them a moment of privacy.

"Matt, are you okay?" his mother fretted after Matthew was back on his feet, straightening out his suit.

"I'm fine," he gasped as he finally got his breath back.

There was an awkward moment as everyone tried to figure out what to say.

"Mom," Matthew said, breaking the silence first. "I'm sorry. I should've told you myself. I was just afraid that you wouldn't accept me if you knew." Emily nodded.

"I understand, Matt, I'd be afraid, too. But it's okay. No matter what, I'll always love you," Emily said before hugging Matthew. He sighed, feeling a huge weight lift off of his chest now that he had his mother's love back. "And I'm so sorry about everything that happened."

"I missed you," he mumbled, feeling some tears prick against his eyes.

"I missed you, too," she replied. After a few more seconds of hugging, Emily let go. "Arthur has something to say to you, too, right?" she said over to where Arthur was standing, with a slight hint of a threatening tone.

"Right," he mumbled, flushing, before coming back over to where Matthew and his mother stood. "I didn't mean to judge you; however you want to live is fine with me." Emily nodded happily in agreement, though Matthew got the feeling that Arthur didn't entirely mean what he had just said and had just said it to please his wife.

"It'll take some getting used to, but we're all trying," Emily said, smiling at him. Matthew smiled back before an earsplitting shriek of "CHIGI~!" hit their ears.

"YOU BASTARD, DON'T PUT YOUR HAND THERE!"

Matthew and his family looked over to see Lovino with his hands wrapped around Francis' neck, strangling him with devilish glee as Feliciano tried weakly to pull him off. Gilbert was laughing hysterically, Ludwig was keeping careful distance from the murderous Italian, and Antonio was trying (and failing) to calm Lovino down.

"I should probably go help with that. I'll be right back," Matthew sighed before going over to save Francis. It sounded like he had groped Lovino, so he pretty much deserved being strangled, but until this competition was over, they sort of needed him. He walked over and gripped Lovino's thin wrists tightly in one hand until he was forced to let go of Francis' neck.

"You can strangle him after we've won, but until then, we actually need him." It was a good thing Matthew was a hockey player and therefore afraid of nothing; otherwise the death glare Lovino was sending him might have sent him off in tears.

"Fine!" Lovino spat out. "But I will kill him later!"

"Fine with me," Matthew said as he let go of Lovino, who stormed away, Antonio following happily. Francis got up, massaging his throat, and announced that he was going to go get water.

"Ve~ Ludwig, I want pasta! Let's go get food!" Feliciano chanted as he hung off of Ludwig's arm, dragging him away. Matthew took a moment to appreciate the silence. It was pretty rare when you hung out with people who regularly caused bizarre scenes like that.

"So are things cool with your family now?" Gilbert asked now that they were alone.

"Yeah, but how did you know Alfred was going to apologize?"

"Obviously because I'm so awesome!" Gilbert declared. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"It was just a lucky guess, wasn't it?"

"An _awesome_ lucky guess!" Gilbert corrected, a grin on his face. The grin faltered when he happened to glance over at Matthew's family.

"Uh, hey, Mattie? Your family's staring at me." Matthew twisted around to look, suddenly remembering that he had promised to go back after he had saved Francis.

"Gil?" Matthew asked. "Would you come with me? To meet my family?"

Gilbert Weillschmidt was not the type of guy to ever admit to being nervous or worried in any way, not to others, and especially not to himself. However, he could easily admit in his mind now that he was extremely anxious at the thought of meeting Matthew's family. He'd never been in a relationship before; pretty much every experience he'd shared in his relationship with Matthew was foreign to him, but those foreign moments had been private, strictly between Matthew and himself. However, now Matthew was asking him to do something new and terrifying with several people. Several people who probably hated him and could make things difficult for Matthew. And an upset Matthew was pretty much the worst thing Gilbert could possibly imagine.

But meeting them would make Matthew happy, and Gilbert was a sucker for anything that would make him happy. And he couldn't avoid Matthew's family forever. He might as well get it over with now, and do his best to try to make a good first impression on them. Or rather, a good second first impression. The first had been in the police station.

…This was going to be harder than he'd thought.

"Okay, Jailbird," he answered, unaware of the long silence that had passed while he was thinking. "Let's go." He wound his hand into Matthew's, clutching at it for comfort as they walked the few yards over to where his family was still gawking.

"Umm, Mom, Arthur, Alfred, Peter. This is Gilbert. Gilbert, this is my mom, Emily, Arthur, my stepdad, and my brothers, Alfred and Peter," Matthew said, gesturing to each person as he introduced them.

"Hi," Gilbert added. "Uh, it's nice to meet you." There was an awkward pause.

"Mattie, is that your girlfriend?" Peter asked, a look of confusion on his face. "'Cause she doesn't look like a girl."

"It's more like Mattie's my girlfriend," Gilbert replied. Matthew flushed red and his family's jaws dropped.

"Uh, hey, I think they posted the results of the last round, let's go look, Gilbert!" Matthew said quickly before dragging him away.

"Your family hates me," Gilbert said as soon as they were out their earshot.

"Just a little bit."

* * *

**I'm a sucker for happy stuff, don't judge me. And I will be writing those side stories. **

***The erhu is a Chinese instrument similar to the violin. **

***Yamaha pianos are Japanese made and generally of very high quality, though their prices tend to be much more reasonable.**

**(I love Peter.)**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N Part two of the competition. Enjoy and thank you for reviewing!**

* * *

Matthew's face was still red when he and Gilbert arrived at the bulletin board where a huge crowd was eagerly awaiting the results of the previous round.

"I can't believe you said that in front of my family," he groaned, letting go of Gilbert's hand to cover his face with his own hands. Gilbert shrugged.

"It's true."

"That––"

Gilbert was spared whatever response Matthew had started when a festival employee put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly to get everybody's attention.

"Okay, guys! We've got the results right here," he paused to tap the large pieces of poster board under his arm and let the crowd cheer a little, "and we're going to put them up over there," he pointed at the bulletin board once the noise died down, "so all of you clear away for a bit while I put these up and then you can go closer for a better look. After they're up, finalists, report to the main auditorium immediately; non-finalists, you can either stay to watch the rest of the competition or leave." The crowd backed away, clearing a small path for the employee to get to the board, where he used a staple gun to quickly put up the lists. All of the competitors surged forward, all desperately looking for their names. Each of the boards had part of the list of the soloists and groups who'd made the final round on them in large letters; it didn't take long for the crowd to start dispersing, some crying in disappointment when they saw that they had not made it to the last round.

Gilbert and Matthew were on the edge of the crowd, so it took a few minutes before they could get close enough to read their quartet's name on the list. Matthew let out a sigh of relief and Gilbert merely smirked.

"All right, Mattie! Let's go awesomely win this thing!" he declared before grabbing him by the hand again and starting off toward the auditorium.

* * *

Whereas the previous rounds of the competition had taken place in the smaller, less-used stages spread out around the campus, this final round took place in the largest, most state-of-the-art one. The musicians all gathered backstage, where Matthew and Gilbert finally found Francis, who now had a rather bruised throat, and Antonio after having had retrieved their instruments from the provided lockers. There was a fifteen minute break for tuning and some final instructions before the last round finally began.

There were a total of twenty-five performances for the last round, so it would last at least an hour, most likely more. The order was again random, and Matthew simply sat backstage, attempting to concentrate on the other performances to distract himself from his own nervousness. The first few performances were all excellent, yet as one boy took the stage, Matthew's attention was immediately captured.

The student had dark brown hair woven into dreadlocks and dark skin that suggested Hispanic heritage; he held a guitar in his hands lovingly as he exited the backstage area and disappeared from sighed. The commentator introduced the musician, Alvarez García, and the piece he was playing, one that Matthew had never heard before. Yet none of this was what had captured his attention; it was only when Alvarez began to play that Matthew realized he was listening to something special.

The music was beautiful; not simply because it was well played, but because it almost felt as if the guitar was alive. The notes flowed forth as if the instrument was a part of Alvarez's body, as if it were his very voice. The naturalness and calmness of the piece struck Matthew as incredibly beautiful; the slow, tranquil notes which climbed and sank in their pace and pitch came together, forming a beautiful sound that, when it ended, left the audience momentarily stunned before they burst into applause. Matthew knew that Alvarez had just played a winning piece.

Two groups performed after Alvarez, though each group had a distinct drop in quality and passion in comparison to Alvarez. Most of the musicians now looked terrified that the bar had been set so high; only a few musicians, besides the Quartet, still looked confident. The next performance that caught Matthew's attention was a duo, one of the few groups left that still looked confident, and contained some of the few females in the room. The two girls looked very similar, leading Matthew to assume that they were sisters. As their names were called, they took the stage with confidence, one girl empty-handed, a piano player, and the other carrying a violin. Their piece was introduced, along with their names, Elise and Emma Janssens.

Their piece began and Matthew found himself caught up in the cheerful music. The piano notes came out light and airy, in perfect time with the violin's staccato notes. The two sisters were neatly in synch and their instruments were handled quite expertly. They were better than most of the other musicians present in the final round. However, in comparison to Alvarez, they were still lacking. They would most likely place, Matthew decided, but at the lower end of the ranks, possibly fifth, or fourth. Their piece ended and they were applauded.

The next musician Matthew was sure would win something came directly after the sister duo, the Chinese erhu player from earlier, Yao. His name was called and he took the stage with his erhu. His piece, The Moon Reflected on the Er-Quan, was introduced along with his name and his piece began.

It was a slow one. The notes came forth quietly and serenely, the pace establishing a soft, slightly melancholic tone, bits and pieces of it bringing in moments of joy and danger. More so than the guitar performance had been simply beautiful, this piece emitted feeling. Even though he was unfamiliar with the instrument, Matthew could feel the changes in pace and feeling as the bow crossed the strings, the strokes echoing the emotions that had struck the composer as he had pieced together the music. Again, Matthew was certain he had heard one of the pieces that would win, and again, there was a huge confidence drop in the room, one which was starting to affect Matthew. The Bad Touch Quartet was very good, but so were many of the other musicians.

More performances followed, ones that were good, but didn't come close to the guitar piece and the erhu solo. That was until one boy's name was called and he stood, visibly trembling as he picked up his cello and carried it onstage, bowing his head so that his shoulder-length brown hair covered his face and kept him hidden from view. He was introduced as Toris Lorinaitis and his piece was announced, the prelude to Bach's fifth cello suite. Matthew was briefly aware of what an appropriate piece it was for such a frightened and lonely looking person before Toris began to play and all other thoughts were wiped from his mind.

This piece, too, was slow, but it carried neither the soft tranquility of the guitar piece nor the tender feeling from the erhu. The music coming from this boy was raw and dark, the notes spilling forth like blood from an open wound. It was clear that the musician was connected to the piece on an even higher level than Yao had been. Just by listening, Matthew felt as if the music weren't merely something pretty, something played to win a competition, but an expression of something deeply personal, something that he could never let out except through the cello. The music and its tone resonated in Toris, the depressing music expressing an experience no one in the room could possibly guess at, but were still able to sense. Matthew felt deeply shaken just from listing to the boy pour his soul out through his cello and dread filled him as he realized that Toris had played the best piece so far and quite possibly the best piece of the entire competition.

Matthew felt a cold dread slowly overtake him as panic set in. How could they possibly hope to win now? Their piece wasn't nearly good enough; they didn't even come close to the skill shown by the cellist. If he allowed himself a brief moment of vanity, Matthew would agree that The Bad Touch Quartet was better than most of the other performers here; they had more skill than most of the other finalists, yet they were distinctly lacking in the emotional connection to both the piece and the instrument that had defined Alvarez, Yao, and Toris as winners.

Matthew was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even realize Toris had finished to thunderous applause and the next performance had also passed. He was only pulled from his thoughts when it was finally their turn to perform and Gilbert gently laid a hand on his shoulder and informed him so.

"It'll be all right," he said softly as he squeezed Matthew's shoulder, uncharacteristically serious. Matthew stood up on legs that shook beneath him and clutched at his violin for support before taking a deep breath.

They had practiced this piece nearly a hundred times. He knew it well and all they could do now was play their best and pray that that was enough to maybe place. Whatever happened, whether they won or lost, at least he had reconciled with his family. That meant more to him than any trophy or award. With this new resolve, Matthew stood a little straighter and followed his friends onstage. Their piece was introduced and Matthew raised his bow to the strings of his violin, his hand steady at the familiar stance. After a beat, they all began with an unspoken sign.

Matthew played, the familiar music soothing his nervousness. His fingers moved up and down the fingerboard of the violin, pressing down on the strings as the bow moved back and forth. Their piece was much more cheerful than many of the other pieces played; it reminded Matthew of Gilbert. The quick movements followed by brief moments of slow seriousness matched his lover's personality perfectly. It was fitting; it was because of him that Matthew was here today. Meeting Gilbert had been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Before he knew Gilbert, he had been quiet, shy, and had let people step all over him and have their way. After meeting him, after befriending him, he had gained so much. He had gained confidence and some aggressiveness; he was still overall a quiet person, but he no longer let things lie still when they angered him. He lived much more for himself now, rather than others. He had given up on the band and the instrument that he had never cared about. He had given up on hiding what he was from others. He had given up everything that was making his life miserable before that fated detention back in September. Matthew was his own person now; he did what he wanted, what made him happiest, and that was a change he would be forever grateful to Gilbert for.

The final concluding notes brought Matthew suddenly from his thoughts. Reflex had kept him playing the entire time. There was the smallest pause before the audience burst into applause. He had been so deeply engrossed in his mind that Matthew had failed to pay attention to hear if their piece could compare with the others. Based on the applause, just maybe.

* * *

As soon as the last performance finished, the musicians were allowed to leave the theatre to reunite with their families. Alfred ran up to them excitedly while the rest of their entourage followed at a more normal pace.

"Matt, that was so freakin' good!" Alfred exclaimed as he soon as he got close enough for him to be able to hear his brother. "Even _I_ liked it. And I normally hate stuff like this!"

The rest of their party joined up with them and added their praises onto Alfred's. The time it took for the judging committee to make their decision was long; most of the other performers had either left to get dinner or had had family members bring one to them. Luckily, Ludwig and Emily had had enough foresight to actually think of dinner and had phoned an order to get take-out pizzas from a nearby restaurant before the final round had even started, and Ludwig had left to retrieve the pizzas immediately after the last performance.

As they ate in one large group, Matthew's family looking slightly intimidated by the strange people they were surrounded with, particularly Feliciano, who had squealed in excitement when he saw the pizzas and hugged Ludwig tightly. Alfred had insisted on sitting next to Matthew, claiming that they needed to catch up. Matthew only half paid attention to the many stories Alfred had apparently bottled up inside of him for the last three months. However, Matthew was distracted at how many people passed by that he somewhat recognized from school. Apparently, Gilbert hadn't just been paranoid earlier.

Matthew dragged his attention back to Alfred, surprised to hear that he was telling some sort of story about Ivan that wasn't simply a rant about how much he hated him. Now that was suspicious.

"Alfred," he interrupted in confusion, "I thought you hated Ivan."

"Huh?" Alfred looked confused for a minute before the question registered in his mind. "Oh, we're friends, now."

"When did that happen?" he asked as a microphone was turned on, his question drowned out by the loud feedback.

"Sorry about that, folks," the commentator from earlier said, his voice now amplified by the microphone. "If all of the Festival participants would please gather around, we've got the awards ready."

Matthew rejoined the rest of the Quartet and moved closer to the small stage that had been erected for this portion of the festival. There was a huge crowd clustered around the stage and the Quartet ended up near the edge. A loud voice suddenly caught Matthew's attention.

"Like, stop worrying, Toris. I keep telling you, you were, like, totally amazing earlier!"

Matthew couldn't help but glance behind him to see that the cellist from earlier was hovering near the edge of the crowd, along with a blond whose gender Matthew couldn't quite figure out. A pair of feminine skinny jeans were riding low on the blond's hips and the shirt the blond was wearing was also rather feminine, yet the blond had a flat chest and straight hips. Even though the blond's shoulder-length hair was pulled into pigtails, Matthew was pretty sure it was a boy.

"Like, have some confidence," the boy said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But Feliks––"

Toris' response was cut off by the commentator, who held a small trophy in his hands.

"In fifth place, we have Emma and Elise Janssens, with the Allegro of Beethoven's Sonata No. 5!"

Applause and cheers sounded as the two girls went up to accept the little trophy. The commentator waited for the noise to die down before announcing fourth place.

"Alvarez García, with La Catedral, by Barrios!"

More applause and Matthew's heart started sinking in his chest. He had hoped that they might be able to place in the lowers winners, but that hope was now gone. He severely doubted they would place in the top three.

"In third place, Yao Wang, with The Moon Reflected on the Er-quan by Hua Yan Jun!"

The cheering was increasing with each award given; much like the size of the trophies. Matthew clapped half-heartedly, certain that they were going home without winning anything.

"In second place, we have The Bad Touch Quartet, with the Allegro of Mozart's Quartet No. 23 in F Major!"

Matthew was stunned. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. Second place? He hadn't even thought they'd place at all.

"C'mon, Mattie," Gilbert was saying, pulling Matthew by the hand. Dazed, he let Gilbert pull him up to the stage where Gilbert accepted the trophy before giving it to Antonio. The reality of their prize struck Matthew as they stepped off of the stage and he began to grin. Second place! That was still pretty amazing, considering how many talented contestants had competed at the festival.

"And now, for the winner of the Young Musician's Festival," the commentator pause for dramatic effect, "Toris Lorinaitis, with the Prelude from Bach's Cello Suite No. 5!"

Matthew looked over at Toris to see a reaction even more stupefied than his own had been. Feliks, on the other hand, was jumping up and down in excitement.

"Oh my God, I like, totally knew my Toris would, like, win!"

A look of abject disbelief still on his face, Toris nervously made his way onstage where the commentator gave him his trophy. Matthew cheered loudly for Toris, glad that if anyone was going to beat them, it was a person who was truly gifted in music. After Toris stepped down, the crowd quickly dispersed and Matthew, Gilbert, and Francis rejoined their group. Emily immediately hugged Matthew.

"Hey, where the hell'd Antonio go?" Lovino demanded harshly, frowning.

"Some guy in a suit was talking to him," Francis answered. The murderous look on Lovino's face would've been funny if he hadn't been right next to Matthew, who could acutely feel anger radiating off of the Italian. Wordlessly, he rushed off to find Antonio. Francis chuckled.

"Making him jealous is so much fun," he sighed.

"Ve~, was Antonio really talking to someone?" Feliciano asked.

"I think he might've been from a college," Francis admitted with a devilish grin, "But Lovino doesn't need to know that."

A loud yawn from Peter caught Matthew's attention. He looked half asleep, leaning up against Arthur, who tapped Emily on the shoulder and gestured to the boy.

"Matt, we're going to head home now, but promise me you'll call me and we'll talk, all right?"

"Yeah, I will," Matthew promised before kissing his mother on the cheek before sighing.

"I know how you feel," Alfred said, placing a hand on Matthew's shoulders. "We got second in the Battle of the Bands, too."

"I almost forgot to ask about that," Matthew admitted. "I didn't have enough time to go watch, were you able to do all right?"

"Yeah, we just had Kiku replace you." Matthew blinked.

"I thought Kiku was a flutist?" Alfred shrugged.

"So did I. Apparently, Heracles taught him."

"Oh," Matthew said. "So, who won?"

"Some band called The Nordics beat us out. You know, that weird Danish guy and his brothers." Matthew shot Alfred a pointed look.

"Alfred, Nikolaus isn't related to Samúel and Elias, and Nikolaus is the only one from Denmark."

"Whatever," Alfred muttered.

"Alfred, let's go!" Emily called, having stopped to see what was taking Alfred so long.

"Anyway, I'll see you later!" he said before running off after Emily, Arthur, and Peter. Matthew yawned. It had been a long, stressful day and playing music for so long was tiring. Adrenaline had kept him going the whole day, but now that the climax of the competition had passed, he was starting to crash.

"Hey, Ludwig, let's go home. Feli and Lovi can go in Francis' car, they live closer to him, anyway," Gilbert suggested, looking rather worn out himself.

Ludwig agreed but Feliciano pouted, at least, until he was reminded that that meant he got to ride in the car with Antonio, after which he brightened up and went with Francis to go find his brother and Antonio. Matthew and Gilbert followed Ludwig to where his car was parked and they set off for home.

Matthew had nearly drifted off to sleep when a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

"I wonder how Alfred knew I was going to be here," he asked out loud, not sure exactly who he was talking to.

"I told him," Ludwig admitted.

"Why'd you do that?" Gilbert asked.

"Because Alfred was bothering me every day. Since I'm your brother, he seemed to think that meant I knew everything about your relationship. He wouldn't stop asking me how Matthew was and insisted on telling me all of his problems. It was obvious he wanted to apologize so I suggested that he do it here to get rid of him."

Matthew bit back a laugh.

"Well, thanks, Ludwig," he said. For whatever reason, he was on good terms with his family again, not to mention they had won second place. It had been a very good day.

* * *

**The competition is over! This story isn't, though! I've got one chapter left, then an epilogue, then a few omake, but the action is pretty much over. The last chapter is a winding down chapter, mostly fluff, though some important elements are introduced.**

***Staccato is a musical term which means that the notes are sharp and quick, not drawn out at all.**

***The fingerboard of a violin is the part where the strings lie and are pressed down to create the different pitches of the various notes.**

***Emma and Elise Janssens are Belgium and Luxembourg, respectively, Alvarez García is Cuba, Nikolaus Anderson is Denmark, Samúel Jónson is Iceland, and Elias Pederson is Norway. Hence their band name.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N Like I said in the last chapter, this chapter marks the end of the action and is about 99.99% fluff, 0.01% plot-ish. Next up is the epilogue and then the story is done! I can't believe I made it this far. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing.**

* * *

The week before prom passed very quickly. After the Young Musician's Festival the news that Gilbert, as well as Francis and Antonio, were into classical music had spread like the plague and they had quickly gained pariah status. Which was perfectly fine with Gilbert, because now that people weren't paying attention to him, he didn't have to worry about keeping up his image. In a way, it was great to not have to worry about what people thought of him. However, when people did pay attention to him, it was usually to make a stupid joke or call him names ("piano faggot" being one of the more prevalent ones).

It had been well worth it, though. He had enjoyed the competition, as had the rest of their quartet. They had won second place, which was still pretty damn good. And Antonio had been offered a scholarship that would let him attend a Cal State so that he could major in cello. The prospect of being able to play his favorite instrument instead of going into manual labor like his parents had made Antonio happier than he'd even been before. It made Gilbert feel better about his social exile to know that he had been able to help Antonio do that.

The four teenagers had been busy with the festival up until then; their prom plans ended up rushed, haphazard, and thrown together at the last minute, but no one really minded. Gilbert had welcomed the sudden slew of prom plans that had been thrown his way. It helped distract him from all of the crap he had to put up with from all of his classmates and what he was going to do at prom. He didn't have any doubts about what he was planning; he had meant it when he had told Matthew that he'd rather not go at all if he couldn't go with his boyfriend. He did want to go to prom with Matthew as his date, but that didn't stop him from feeling uneasy about the reactions of the other students. California was a liberal state, but they lived in a conservative pocket and Gilbert was more than a little worried about what might happen to Matthew and himself if they came out to the whole student body. At least school was almost over and after they could move away to someplace more accepting.

Gilbert sighed as he pulled to a stop in front of Matthew's house. He had a bad feeling about all of this. Not only was he throwing himself to the judgment of the entire senior and junior class, but he was also facing Matthew's family again. They hadn't met since the Festival and they still had a bad impression of him. He sighed again as he cut the engine and exited the car before walking up the front door and ringing the doorbell. Almost immediately, the door opened, revealing Arthur, his brow furrowed as he looked Gilbert up and down, judging him. Gilbert swallowed.

"Um, I'm here to pick up Mattie," he said awkwardly.

"The boys aren't quite ready yet," Arthur replied, stiffly. "Why don't you come on in to wait for him?"

"That's okay, I'll just wait in my car," Gilbert said quickly, taking a step back and jerking a thumb back at the Ferrari he had once again borrowed.

"It wasn't a suggestion."

Gilbert was taller and more muscular than Matthew's stepfather, yet somehow he was feeling rather intimidated by the man's aura.

"Okay."

He followed Arthur to the living room and sat down where he gestured. Arthur sat down across from him, studying him closely. Gilbert shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, Gilbert, was it?" Gilbert nodded. "While we're waiting, why don't we get to know each other a little better?"

Crap. Another new obstacle in the whole dating thing. Gilbert swallowed again. There was no way this was going to end well.

"Uh, sure."

"You're in the same grade as Matthew, right?"

"Right."

"So you're also graduating this year. Do you know where you're going to college next year?"

"I'm not going to college," Gilbert admitted.

"Are you joining the military then? Getting a job?"

Gilbert shook his head, watching helplessly as the conversation went further and further south.

"No," he said again. "I'm going to try to get my piano music produced." One of Arthur's thick eyebrows rose up.

"How on earth are you planning to finance that?" Gilbert felt a twinge of annoyance at Arthur's tone. He was treating him like an idiot. Gilbert had had plenty of training in finance; he'd been raised to run a multi-million dollar corporation from the time he could talk. Though his grades were bad, Gilbert wasn't stupid. He'd just never had a use for the classes at school.

"A family member actually left me some money, which is more than enough to produce my music, and if worst come to worst, I can always sell my stock," Gilbert ground out, trying not to let his anger show. He didn't want to leave Matthew's family with even more bad memories of him, but at this point, it looked like bad memories were all his family was going to have of him.

"You own stock?" Arthur asked in surprise.

"My grandfather wanted me to learn about investment when I was little." Gilbert silently prayed that Arthur wouldn't ask any more questions about his family. That was a topic he preferred to stay far away from.

"What do your parents do?"

Dammit.

"My mom mostly does charity work and my dad runs our family's company."

"Really?" Both of Arthur's eyebrows were raised now. Gilbert nodded.

"I see." There was a small pause. "Do you do any drugs?"

Gilbert shook his head. He didn't do any drugs _now_, at least. He had quit after Ludwig, Francis, and Antonio had found out that he was using drugs and had forced him to, and that had been over two years ago. He hadn't strayed once since, and he never would again, so he didn't feel too bad about bending the truth.

"Do you drink?"

"Sometimes," Gilbert admitted.

"Smoke?"

"No." He had tried, of course, but the memories of Elizaveta's grandfather dying of lung cancer when they were seven had left a large impression on him and tobacco had been one of the few substances that he couldn't stomach.

"Any piercings?"

"Just one now," he said. He'd had more, but had let them close up a while ago.

"Where is it?"

"Same as Mattie. It's a tongue piercing."

Arthur made a disapproving noise before continuing.

"Any tattoos?"

"Two. A dragon on my arm and an eagle on my back."

Another noise of disapproval. Gilbert sighed again, knowing that there was no way in hell that he would ever get the approval of Matthew's family now. He had a terrible past, that was true, but he had put that all behind him for good. Wasn't that worth anything? It hadn't been easy, either. After his fifteenth birthday party he'd sunk into a year-long depression that he'd tried to kill with drugs and alcohol until his bother and friends had finally caught him and helped him out. He'd resisted them for a while, but had eventually cleaned up and tried to find healthier ways to deal with his lingering depression. His relationship with Matthew was one of the things in his life that gave it meaning and help combat that depression. Gilbert realized that he had become distracted and quickly dragged his attention back to Arthur, who was still glaring at him.

"_Aww, to hell with it,_" Gilbert thought. Arthur already hated him; there was no point in trying to be nice anymore.

"You have no right to judge me," he started, finally letting some of his anger go. "Mattie's told me about the shit you pulled when you were young. I haven't even done half of the crap you have." Gilbert forced himself to stop there. True, he didn't care if he pissed off Arthur anymore, but he didn't want a full-blown fight either. Arthur's face turned bright red at Gilbert's words and his fists and jaws both tightly clenched.

"Don't talk like that to me, _boy_," he snapped before standing up. "Get out of this house. I don't want any of my children near you. And don't think you can lecture me about anything until _after_ you've cleaned up."

"I already have," Gilbert growled, rising from his seat as well. "And I'd never go back to a life like that because I have Mattie to keep me straight."

There was a small, awkward pause as Gilbert's words sank in.

"Well, not _straight_, exactly, but, well, you know what I mean," Gilbert muttered, breaking his eye contact with Arthur, whose face has softened slightly. He wasn't sure what he'd said, but apparently he'd reached Arthur, just a little.

"I suppose we have at least that in common," Arthur muttered gruffly before sitting back down.

Gilbert assumed that he was making reference to Matthew's mother. Arthur wasn't looking at him murderously anymore and he figured it was all right to sit back down. Emily stepped into the room a few moments later, looking worried.

"Is everything all right? I thought I heard shouting."

"Everything's fine, Emily," Arthur said. She visibly relaxed.

"Good," she said, smiling brightly at Gilbert. "Lemme go check on the boys, they're taking an awfully long time." She took a few steps toward the stairs but stopped when the front door burst open.

"Sorry we're late, I had to go pick up my suit," Alfred announced as he ran into the house and up the stairs, dragging Matthew and his suit in a bag behind him.

A look of fury crossed Emily's face.

"Alfred Fitzgerald Jones!" she shouted after them. "I told you to pick up your suit _three __hours__ ago_!"

"Yeah, but I forgot," Alfred answered before slamming the door to his room shut. Gilbert, Arthur, and Emily sat in an awkward silence after that.

* * *

"Good thing Men's Warehouse was still open!" Alfred said cheerfully as he and Matthew started to get changed.

"They must have a lot of guys showing up at the last minute on prom days," Matthew muttered as he buttoned his shirt. Even after three months and a lot of mental growing up, Alfred was as hopeless as always. It was somehow comforting.

"I just hope Linh doesn't get mad when her boyfriend shows up late for prom," he teased. Alfred's smile slipped off of his face and his shoulders sagged.

"Linh and I aren't together anymore," he mumbled. "She dumped me."

"I'm sorry, Alfred," Matthew said, feeling truly bad for him. "Who're you going to prom with, then?"

"Ivan and Linh," Alfred answered. "We're all going as friends."

"Oh." That was weird. "Why did she dump you? It couldn't have been that bad if you're still friends. Maybe you'll get back together?"

"Maybe," Alfred said. "She did dump me for the weirdest reason."

"What reason?" Matthew asked. Alfred made a scoffing noise.

"Something about 'paying more attention to other guys than me'," Alfred replied, raising the pitch of his voice to imitate Linh.

"What?" Alfred shrugged.

"I know, dumb, right?"

"Why would she say that?" Matthew asked curiously.

"Well," Alfred shuffled awkwardly, "right after we got together I started stalking you for those, um, pictures. And then after that whole incident, I started stalking Ivan––"

"Alfred!" Matthew exclaimed. "Didn't you learn your lesson about stalking after you almost got Gilbert thrown in prison?" Alfred cringed at his brother's rare shouting.

"Yeah, but Ivan was being really creepy!" Alfred wailed in his defense, turning away from Matthew. "He was hanging around Linh and me and he was being so weird! I was just trying to get some dirt on him so Linh would stop trusting him but then I found out he wasn't all that bad! Like, did you know he has a part-time job? He got it to help support his mom and sisters back in Russia. Can you believe he can handle that and school and hockey?" Matthew looked at Alfred, who was beaming as he praised Ivan. He blinked.

"Jeez, Alfred," Matthew joked (or at least he hoped he was joking), "if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were in love with Ivan."

He looked over at his brother to see his mouth hanging open in a comical fashion. The American flag-patterned tie in Alfred's hands fell to the floor as the two brothers remained frozen. Alfred snapped out of it first.

"WHAT THE HELL!" he screeched, his cheeks flaming. "What–I–how–That is so messed up I don't even–!" Words failed Alfred and he screamed girlishly, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and shaking him. "That is _not_ true, not at aaall!"

"Alfred! What on earth are you doing to your brother?" Emily cried out from the doorway, having run upstairs when she heard Alfred's earlier scream. Alfred quickly let go of his brother.

"Nothing," Alfred answered pathetically, picking up his tie awkwardly. Emily frowned but took a good look at both of her dressed-up sons.

"You look nice, Matt," she said. "That's a very handsome suit."

"Thanks, Mom," Matthew replied, smoothing down the jacket of the suit Gilbert had bought him.

"Alfred, Linh is here and she said Ivan'll be here any minute, so get your tie on so we can take some pictures before you leave. Matt, we want to some pictures of you and Gilbert, too."

Alfred quickly tied his tie (it ended up crooked) and they went downstairs, Alfred quickly muttering an apology to Matthew on the way. Emily ushered Matthew and Gilbert together for the pictures. She snapped several pictures of them as they pinned on each others boutonnieres and then took a few more photos of them standing together.

"All right, I guess that's enough," she said. "Gilbert, do you want me to get doubles of these for your parents?"

"You don't have to do that," Gilbert answered, awkwardly. "I don't think they'd want any."

"Oh." Emily flushed, feeling bad about having brought up a subject that was apparently touchy. She, as well as Arthur and Alfred, immediately assumed that Gilbert's family hadn't take the news of their son's relationship very well. That wasn't why Gilbert didn't want the pictures, but there was no reason to tell Matthew's family that his parents didn't even know about Matthew and that they hadn't even seen their own son in over seven months.

The awkwardness was broken by the doorbell ringing. Alfred jumped up to go answer the door.

"Ivan!" he exclaimed happily at the sigh of the Russian boy, who was wearing a scarf, of all things, along with his suit.

"I brought the limo," Ivan announced in his heavy accent.

"Sweet!" Alfred squealed as he pushed past Ivan to go look at the limo. Linh, who was wearing a green, Vietnamese style dress, waved at Ivan and followed, along with the rest of the family.

"Hey, there's a Ferrari in our driveway!" Alfred shouted, running up to it with an expression of awe on his face.

"Don't touch that! If I get a scratch on it my dad'll kill me!" Gilbert yelled, running to pull Alfred off of his car.

"That's _your_ car?" Alfred asked incredulously. Judging by the look on his face, Gilbert had just gained brownie points in Alfred's eyes just by owning an expensive car.

"I sort of borrowed if from my dad without permission," Gilbert admitted, muttering the last few words. "Anyway, ready to go, Mattie?""

"Sure," Matthew answered.

* * *

Gilbert and Matthew just barely made it to their dinner reservation on time. That was when the night's awkwardness began. The stares were starting. The maître d' as well as their waitress were both polite to them outwardly, but their discomfort at serving two guys on a date was clear. Gilbert had specifically requested a table in a corner so that they would be a bit more secluded from the stares, but Matthew could still see people stretching to gawk at them, including a few other prom parties, who would look over in their direction and then start texting. Considering how quickly rumors spread at their school, everyone would know about their relationship by the end of the night.

Gilbert was feeling just as uncomfortable, though he did his best not to let it show. He wanted to relax and just enjoy his night with his date like most of their classmates. But more than that, he wanted Matthew to enjoy himself. It had been Gilbert's idea to come out of the closet publicly and he had sort of dragged Matthew along. He had to stay strong and ignore the stares so that Matthew would be able to as well.

Dinner was relatively quiet. They ate quickly and left, Gilbert feeling a certain amount of glee when he didn't leave a tip, going over the lines of the zero a few times. When they returned to the car, Gilbert had to ask to be sure that Matthew was really okay with what they were about to do.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked quietly, his hands gripping the steering wheel as they began to the drive to the observatory where the prom was being held.

"Of course. Why?"

"I feel like I forced you to do this and I know things are awkward because we're getting stared at and I just want to make sure you're okay with that. It's fine if we skip prom, it's not like it's that big of a deal. I'd rather not go at all if we're not going to have an awesome time."

"The stares are hard to ignore and I know they're not going to stop anytime soon, but I want to go," Matthew replied firmly. "I know I'm going to get treated like this all of my life and I don't want to always deny myself experiences because of that. I can put up with a few stares." He smiled at Gilbert, who felt a swell of pride at his boyfriend's strength. "Besides, we already paid for the tickets and the suits. I don't want to waste that money."

Gilbert pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the observatory and leaned over to kiss Matthew.

"I love you," he said quietly when he pulled away. It wasn't something he was used to saying. He'd never really said it to his parents and he'd never said anything like that to any of the floozies he'd slept with. But with Matthew, it was somehow different. It was still weird to say the words, but he liked the response enough to start saying it more and more. Matthew smiled back at him.

"I love you, too, Gil," he replied softly. "C'mon, let's go."

They passed security easily (neither of them was stupid enough to try to sneak anything in) and headed into the thankfully dim lit observatory. Before they were allowed in, small paper bracelets were taped onto their wrists by various counselors and they were warned that any "inappropriate dancing" would result in having the bracelet cut off; if anyone without a bracelet was seen dancing inappropriately, they would be ejected from the dance. After they had the bracelets, Matthew and Gilbert finally made it into the dance, where students were heading toward the snacks and dance floor and lining up for the professional pictures.

"C'mon, Mattie, let's go take pictures before the line gets too long," Gilbert suggested before ushering Matthew to the line. They remained unnoticed until they were at the front of the line. More people had gathered since then, unfortunately. Gilbert and Matthew stepped forward to the starry background for the photos as the photographer fixed his lens.

"So this is a buddy shot, right?" he asked.

"No," Gilbert replied steadily. "We want to take the couple pictures."

A few gasps of surprise and the whispers and stares immediately started. The cell phones where whipped out once more and an uncomfortable number of eyes turned to look at them.

"That's right," Matthew declared, fighting the urge to run away or say that they had just been joking.

The photographer looked uncomfortable but directed their pose, modified slightly from the heterosexual couple one and the pictures were taken with a crowd staring. They stepped away from the picture area gratefully as soon as the last picture was taken.

"The worst part's over," Gilbert said to Matthew, forcing a smile as they headed toward the dance room.

"I sure hope so," Matthew replied.

Even as they crossed over to the dance floor, where the DJ was already set up and couples were dancing, eyes were still on them until they disappeared into the crowd. The dance room was even darker and most of the couples were preoccupied, grinding and freaking on each other to the beat of the loud rap music. This was great news for Gilbert and Matthew because it meant that hardly anyone noticed them for the rest of the night. A few people looked; mostly those who had already heard the rumors and were looking for them to confirm them, but for the most part, Gilbert and Matthew were able to dance in peace. They, however, refrained from freaking or grinding. They both knew that if they did the stares would grow and neither of them wanted that. Instead, they just danced normally, though close enough for Gilbert to occasionally cop a feel from his date when no one was looking.

They'd been dancing for about an hour when Gilbert noticed something odd.

"Hey Jailbird, I think your brother might be a little bicurious," Gilbert announced. Matthew frowned. He'd have to disagree with that one; he was certain that his brother was strictly straight, even with that weird conversation earlier when they had been getting ready for the prom.

"Why would you say that?" he asked. Gilbert's response was a mere tilting of the head in the direction behind Matthew. He twisted around to see what he was looking at.

"Oh, my, God." At least he'd been certain until right now. Because there was Alfred, dancing with Linh and Ivan, if the definition of the word "dancing" was stretched. Linh was grinding up against both Ivan and Alfred, sandwiched between the two of them. Ivan's arms had closed around them both, his hands resting on Alfred's ass and he didn't even seem to care at all. In fact, his own hands seemed to be dangerously close to Ivan's hips as well.

"Ewww," Matthew groaned, turning away from the threesome. "I did _not_ need to see that."

"I never knew Alfred was such a slut," Gilbert commented as he observed the three friends over Matthew's shoulders.

"Don't call my brother a slut!" Matthew scolded him, punching his shoulder playfully.

"What about 'skank' then?" Gilbert suggested, grinning. "'Cause now he's sucking that chick's face off."

Matthew twisted around again to see that Linh and Alfred were making out rather heavily, still entwined with Ivan, who was clearly taking advantage of Alfred's distraction to slide his hands up his untucked shirt.

"Jesus," Matthew muttered, covering his eyes, "Gil, can we please move somewhere where I can't see my little brother getting it on with two people at once?"

"Sure thing, Jailbird," Gilbert answered before taking Matthew's hand and leading him to a different corner of the dance floor where Alfred, Linh, and Ivan were thankfully blocked from view. Matthew tried to get the image of the three out of his brain, but it was pretty hard.

Matthew let out an embarrassing squeak when Gilbert took advantage of his own distraction to grab his butt again. He laughed at the noise and Matthew felt his face heat up.

"Gilbert, would you stop that?" he hissed, looking around. He normally wouldn't have minded, but he didn't want to draw any extra attention right now. They were being pleasantly ignored and Matthew wanted to keep it that way.

"But I don't wanna," Gilbert replied, smirking.

"Bracelets, you two."

Gilbert and Matthew looked in surprise to see Mr. Clark frowning at them, a pair of scissors in his hands.

"What?" Gilbert asked eloquently.

"You were all warned at the beginning of the dance. Inappropriate dancing gets your bracelet cut off. If we catch you again without a bracelet we'll have to ask you to leave."

"But we weren't going anything inappropriate," Matthew argued. They hadn't. They were much better than huge portions of the dance floor. Like his brother, for one example.

"I saw inappropriate contact so I'm cutting off your bracelets," Mr. Clark repeated. "If you want to defy me though, I supposed we could just ask you to leave now."

Gilbert was glaring at the counselor but he shoved out his wrist with the bracelet, as did Matthew. The paper bracelets were clipped off and Mr. Clark wandered away, passing several gyrating couples and not seeming to care.

"Fucking asshole," Gilbert spat out as soon as he was out of earshot. "He only did that because he hates me."

Matthew had a suspicion that it was also because they were a same-sex couple, but Gilbert looked angry enough as it was so he left that idea unspoken.

Instead, they went to get drinks and some food before going dancing again, this time making sure to stay far away from both Mr. Clark and Alfred. The two were both very glad that they had decided to take the risk and go to the prom as a date, rather than in a group of friends. Hardly anyone had bothered (or even noticed) them after the first hour or so and the rest of the night had been fun enough to make up for the first hour. Before they even knew it, the DJ announced the last song, a slow one.

The music began and Gilbert's arms closed tenderly around Matthew and he leaned into the soft touch, wrapping his arms around Gilbert's waist. Over Gilbert's shoulder, he saw Alfred and Linh embrace while Ivan looked away, a pained look crossing his face before he wiped it away and grinned blankly. Matthew looked away, feeling bad for the Russian boy.

"You okay?" Gilbert asked, sensing his discomfort.

"Yeah," Matthew replied before burying his face in Gilbert's neck and inhaling his cologne. He didn't even care if he was acting like a complete girl; Gilbert smelled nice and just holding each other like this was easily the most romantic thing they'd ever done. Matthew wasn't sure which one of them moved first, all he knew was that suddenly they were kissing and he didn't even care that people might be watching. He couldn't stop himself. Not that he would've tried.

They broke apart as the music ended and the lights came up. With the lights on, a few people had coughed a glimpse of them and were staring, but Matthew ignored them and slipped his hand into Gilbert's as they made their way out of the observatory and back to the car. As he opened his door, his phone buzzed and Matthew quickly put his seatbelt on before reading the text from Alfred.

_u were rite were back 2gether :))))_

A few seconds later, another message popped up.

_ivans totally bummed tho dunno why :(((((_

_wat do i do?_

Matthew sighed and turned off his phone. Alfred's problems could wait until the next day.

* * *

***freaking: a form of "dancing" done at school dances where the girl bends over with her butt in the air and the guy pretty much dry-humps her. Sometimes it even turns into real intercourse. I've never been unfortunate enough to see it go that far, but friends of mine have.**

**I can't believe the filler chapter ended up being the longest. That is so not right.**


	23. Final Chapter and Epilogue

**A/N The last chapter! I can't believe it. Thank so you much to everyone who read and reviewed and favorite this story! I hope you enjoy this epilogue. :)**

* * *

The day before graduation, Emily asked Matthew to have dinner with her. They are at a small restaurant and talked about all of the things they'd missed in the last few months. Eventually, the topic turned to the future. Emily was very happy to hear that Gilbert had paid Matthew back his college savings and that Matthew had decided to attend a Cal State on the coast. She hadn't been able to go to college herself, so she became very excited as they talked about school.

"Do you know who you'll be dorming with yet?" she asked.

"I'm not staying in a dorm," Matthew admitted. "Gil and I are getting an apartment nearby." He avoided looking her in the eye, yet he could still see the look of shock on her face. He winced.

"You're going to start living together?" she whispered sharply. "Don't you think that's a little _soon_?"

Matthew shrugged, feeling a dull flush work its way across his face. He'd hoped he would never have to tell his mother about this.

"We already live together," he muttered, looking down at the table as if the restaurant's logo was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"What! Matthew!" His flush grew deeper at the look of distress on his mother's face.

"Well, where did you think I'd gone after I left?" he retorted defensively, switching to looking at his fork instead of his mother.

"We thought that you were staying with another friend! I would've never dreamed that you were shacking up with your boyfriend!" Emily hissed.

"It wasn't like that," Matthew insisted, "_At first_," he added on silently.

Emily still looked put out at the revelation, but she didn't want to argue with her son after not seeing him for so long. Not to mention he was an adult now and he was allowed make his own decisions. Plus, she hadn't made the smartest decisions falling in love, either. She sighed.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she stated. "But I suppose your mind is made up. I just hope you know what you're doing."

Matthew figured that was about as close as he was going to get to her approval so he risked looking up. She was biting her lip, but in a way that suggested she was trying not to smile.

"You take after me too much," she said, finally letting the smile show through. "Just don't let him start a business! He'll say it's just a little one and that it'll give him more free time to spend with you and the kids but you'll never see him again!"

"I won't," Matthew promised, smiling. They fell into a comfortable silence.

"Have you spoken to your father lately?" she asked, breaking the silence. Matthew shook his head.

"Not since I told him about Gilbert," he said, sadly.

"He always was an idiot," Emily said. Matthew smiled weakly.

"I can't believe you're graduating tomorrow!" she sighed, trying to change the subject. "I still remember when you were a little baby and now you're all grown up! I'm going to miss you so much." She sniffed.

"We won't be that far away," Matthew reassured her. "It's not even an hour drive."

"Do you know when you'll be moving?" Emily asked, looking forlorn.

"We're moving after we get back from vacation, so mid-July." Emily nodded.

"You mentioned you were going on vacation, but you never told me where you were going." They had scheduled their dinner before graduation rather than after because Gilbert and Matthew were leaving the day after graduation for their trip before "the real world starts", in Gilbert's words. Plus, it allowed them to miss Roderich and Elizaveta's wedding on the eighth.

"I didn't know either, he was keeping it a surprise, but he finally told me earlier," Matthew informed her. "We're going to South Africa."

"Africa? Why?"

"Gil really wants to watch the FIFA World Cup. He says he has a good feeling about the German team this year." Emily frowned.

"How can he afford that? Is he dealing drugs?" she asked in a panic. Matthew fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Gil's not a drug dealer, Mom. His family's just rich." Emily looked relieved.

"Thank goodness!" she breathed. "I was a little concerned because he had such a nice car and he wore an Armani suit to prom and I was wondering how on earth a teenager could afford all of that without doing something illegal." She sighed in relief. "Speaking of which, how was prom? Alfred said it was great, even though he looked so sad when he came home."

"It was really fun," Matthew said.

"You haven't been having any problems, have you?" Emily asked, looking concerned. "No one bothered you about being a," she struggled for a few moments on what to say before setting on "couple?"

Matthew shifted awkwardly and avoided his mother's eyes.

"There have been a few incidents," he admitted, "but nothing major."

"Like what?" Emily demanded, her concern growing. "Tell me." Matthew knew she wasn't going to let the subject drop, so he decided to just tell her.

"Well, Gil's car got keyed pretty badly and some people wrote some stuff on our lockers with a Sharpie, but other than that, it's just been name-calling and other stupid things. It wasn't a big deal. It was only for a few days, anyway." Emily looked horrified and Matthew braced himself for her reaction.

"Matthew, why did you tell anybody? This is serious!"

"It's really not that big of a deal, school is almost over. After graduation we don't have to see anybody from our school ever again so I decided to just let it drop," Matthew explained. Gilbert had wanted to go to their counselor, too, but Matthew had talked him out of it. He really didn't want a situation at the end of the year, and he didn't want whoever was pulling all of the crap to think that it was bothering them.

"Still," Emily said, "Whoever did that doesn't deserve to get away with it!" Matthew shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. I'm just glad we're graduating tomorrow."

Emily didn't want to drop the subject, but she could see that Matthew did, so she merely sighed and let it go.

* * *

The next day, Matthew and Gilbert arrived at the school gym for graduation. The actual ceremony took place on the football field, but it was organized so that the students met in the gym to get in the order that their names were called and for the teacher and counselors to make sure that the students didn't have any cell phones or iPods during the ceremony. Matthew and Gilbert met up with Antonio and Francis, who were already wearing their hideous, bright blue, polyester gowns and mortarboards.

"Lovi's coming to watch me graduate," Antonio said as soon as they met up with him, grinning. "He said it was just because Feli was coming with Ludwig, though. Isn't he cute?"

"Cute" wasn't the word Matthew would've used to describe the moody Italian, but Antonio was humming cheerfully so he stayed quiet. He, Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert chatted until one of the teachers picked up a megaphone and yelled at all of the students to put their gowns and any accessories on and get into their seats. Gilbert and Matthew waved goodbye to Francis and Antonio before heading to the back of the gym. During the graduation rehearsals they'd had the last two days, they had been organized alphabetically and Williams and Weillschmidt were close enough so that Gilbert and Matthew had ended up next to each other for the ceremony. They put on their ugly gowns and their mortarboards and stood in their place in the line.

The class of over seven hundred students started filing out of the gym and onto the field. A few idiots muttered insults as they passed Gilbert and Matthew, but they staunchly ignored them. After a few minutes, the stream of students was finally seated in the folding chairs arranged on the football field. The home and visitor bleachers were full of family and friends as they cheered on their graduating seniors.

Matthew personally didn't see a reason for all of the fuss. It wasn't like it was hard to graduate.

After a long, painfully boring valedictory speech, the counselors started reading off names from the roster. Matthew and Gilbert waited, bored, until they finally got to the last letters of the alphabet and they were able to proceed up to the elevated stage where the principal was smiling and congratulating all of the students as they received the empty case for their diplomas. As their section moved toward the stage, a smirking jock stuck out his leg to trip Gilbert. It backfired on him when Gilbert stepped directly onto his ankle. The jock shouted in pain.

"What's this?" Gilbert asked, mockingly. "There's something under my foot! I wonder what it could be?" He shifted his weight onto his left foot and ground it against the jock's ankle, who let loose a steady stream of curses. Matthew stifled his laughter.

"Oh, well," Gilbert said after a few seconds, finally taking his foot off of the ankle. "I guess I'll never know."

He walked cheerfully away from the pained jock before turning to Matthew. "Dumbass. As if he could trip someone with reflexes as awesome as mine."

Matthew and Gilbert each had their names called and received their diploma cases and they returned to their seats. Finally, all of the students had had their names called and received their diploma cases. A few closing words and the ceremony was done. Family and friends rushed onto the field to find their seniors and congratulate them once more.

Matthew's family found them quickly, Peter looking miserable. Gilbert felt his pain. He had been very bored during the ceremony, too. Emily was armed with her camera and took several pictures of Matthew with each member of his family while Gilbert stood in the background, feeling like he was intruding.

"Here, I'll take one of all of you," Gilbert offered. Emily handed him the camera and he took a few shots of the family. Unsurprisingly, his own parents were absent. Gilbert caught a glimpse of Roderich with Elizaveta as he vaguely wondered if his parents even knew he was graduating this year. Ludwig finally found him as he was taking the pictures. Emily took back her camera back and offered to take a few pictures of the brothers. They did, though the last one ended up blurred when Feliciano ran past them, chased by an angry Lovino as he searched for protection with Ludwig. Feliciano then dragged Ludwig off somewhere, leaving Gilbert alone with Matthew's family again

"All right, one last picture," Emily said cheerfully. "I think that's about all Peter can take." She nudged Matthew toward Gilbert, who took the hint and laid his arm across Matthew' shoulders and pulled him closer for one last picture of their high school lives.

* * *

_Two and a half years later…_

"Gil, are you sure you have all of the presents?" Matthew asked on the way out of the door, ready to lock the door to their apartment. Gilbert looked down at the wrapped packages balanced in his arms.

"There's four here. That's all of them, right?"

"Yep," Matthew replied as he locked the door. The apartment he and Gilbert shared was small, but cozy. It was close enough to Matthew's college that he could ride his bike to school and the city they lived in was relatively close to Los Angeles, where Gilbert commuted. He was finally starting the process of recording his first CD and Matthew couldn't be prouder of him.

"All right, let's go."

Gilbert transferred half of the gifts to Matthew and they walked down to their car to start the forty-minute drive to Matthew's parents' house. After it had been keyed in the last few days of their senior year of high school, Gilbert had decided to get rid of his old Mercedes-Benz. The scratches had been deep and the car was ancient anyway, so he didn't feel too bad about selling its parts and buying himself a new Mustang upon his return from South Africa with Matthew (still lamenting Germany's loss to Spain).

After a few years, Matthew and his family were both a lot more comfortable with his sexuality, yet they were still cautious when dealing with people who didn't know. Besides Alfred, Emily, Peter, and Arthur, Matthew's family was unaware of his relationship with Gilbert. That was why they were having a small, private Christmas celebration with him and his family and Matthew would later go to his grandmother's Christmas celebration without Gilbert. The arrangement bothered both of them, but Matthew's grandmother was old and he really didn't want to disappoint or shock her so late in her life.

They arrived at the house and were welcomed by Emily. Their gifts were added to the pile under the tree and Gilbert and Matthew both received crushing hugs from Peter, especially when he saw the size of his gift. Matthew quickly noticed that Alfred was missing and asked his mother where he was.

"Alfred said he'd be late. He also said he'd be bringing someone with him," she answered happily. Alfred and Linh's reconciliation hadn't lasted very long. Six months later, they'd broken up again, though this time the split was permanent. They'd stayed friends, but Alfred had remained single ever since. Matthew and Emily had both been relieved to hear that he was finally dating again.

About an hour later, Matthew received a text message from Alfred.

_matt im almost there_

"Alfred's almost here," he announced. Another message popped up on the screen.

_u mite want 2 tell every1 2 brace themselves_

Now that was odd.

_and plz dont h8 me_

He repeated the two texts out loud. He received many blank stares.

"'Don't hate me'?" Emily echoed. "Why would we hate him?"

They got their answer ten minutes later when Alfred appeared on the front step, holding hands with his date. Emily blanched.

"Hey, Mom," he greeted weakly, avoiding her eyes and flushing.

"It is nice to you see you again, Mrs. Kirkland, da?"

The entire family gaped at Alfred.

"Ivan!" Emily exclaimed, completely flabbergasted. "I-I didn't expect to you see you here. Uh, come in."

Alfred and Ivan entered the house, Ivan carrying a few packages. Matthew covered his mouth with his hands and tried desperately to force back his laughter. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gilbert smirking. He leaned over to whisper into Matthew's ear.

"I called it."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Matthew collapsed against the couch, laughing hysterically.

"Oh, God, the irony!" he gasped through his laughter. Alfred's flush intensified.

"Shut up!" he shrieked. Matthew couldn't. He was trying, but failing. After nearly five solid minutes, he was finally able to catch his breath and walked over to where Alfred was sulking with Ivan.

"Alfred," he said, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder, "I forgive you for everything now."

"Well, that's just fantastic," Alfred growled back, sarcastically.

"Dinner's ready!" Emily called from the kitchen. Gilbert and Peter shot past them and Arthur followed at a slower pace. Ivan stood up to join the dinner party, and Alfred motioned for him to go ahead without him. The two brothers were left alone.

"So how the hell did that happen, anyway?" Matthew asked, gesturing towards the Russian.

"Eh, Linh sort of set us up," Alfred admitted. Matthew blinked.

"Really? Why?"

"I have no idea. I thought things were fine between us but then she dumped me again and after Ivan and I got together she told me that she'd dumped me because she felt too guilty 'staying in the way of our love'." Alfred rolled his eyes. "Why are girls so _weird_?" Matthew shrugged.

"Beats me. Now let's go eat before Peter and Gilbert take all of the turkey."

* * *

_Epilogue_

After Matthew completed his Bachelor of Music degree in violin, he and Gilbert moved to Canada, where they were able to purchase a small house and avoid the negative judgment that had plagued them in the United States. Gilbert continued to play the piano and produce his CDs, though they didn't sell very well for the first few years. Eventually his music gained popularity and he produced several of his original compositions and enjoyed a small fan base.

Before they moved, Gilbert sent his parents a letter to inform them of what he was doing and received a response that he was now disowned. The news hardly surprised or bothered Gilbert. He had come a long way in his feelings about his parents and was much happier living a quiet life with Matthew in their small house. Ludwig, however, remained in touch with him and sent him regular updates about the family.

Two years after they moved to Canada, and seven years after they had first started dating, Gilbert finally asked Matthew to marry him. He said yes.

Alfred ended up writing screenplays for science fiction and horror movies, though he was often too terrified to watch his own creations and would scream and cry the entire duration when he did. Occasionally, he even played a small role in some of his movies. He had the talent to play larger roles, but was too scared to accept them. He remained in a relationship with Ivan, who had received a hockey scholarship to attend college and played professionally afterward. Their relationship was very turbulent and they argued and broke up often, but always wound up back together. Linh, who had become a florist, applauded her matchmaking skills.

Elizaveta and Roderich married three days after she graduated from high school. She never went to college and instead remained at home with the two children she had with Roderich. Elizaveta also occupied her time with various charity drives and helping her husband run their company which had grown considerably since their marriage. They were both relatively happy.

Ludwig also joined the family company under his cousin after obtaining his MBA. After the disappointment they had suffered from Gilbert, his parents had pressured him to join the company and, fearing their disapproval, he had. Pressured by his family, he also bowed and married a nice girl with a sizeable fortune whom they had picked out for him. Neither of them was very happy: Ludwig, because he was forced to be with a person he didn't love, and Anna, because she was certain that her husband had had an affair with his Italian painter friend.

Feliciano decided not to go to college, and, supported partly by his grandfather, began painting instead. After high school, he lost contact with Ludwig and didn't seem him again until he was contracted to paint a mural in a new office building where a newly-married Ludwig happened to be working. They rekindled their relationship, but Feliciano eventually left him out of guilt of what he was doing to Ludwig's wife and children. They never saw each other again afterward.

Lovino had a difficult time trying to figure out what he wanted to do after high school, but he finally decided to go to culinary school and start his own catering business. A few years after he graduated from high school, he moved in with Antonio, who was immediately disowned by his strictly-Catholic parents when he finally told them about the relationship he'd had with Lovino since he had been fifteen. He was disappointed by their reaction, but decided to just devote himself to Lovino and the cello, in which he majored.

Francis decided to go to fashion school and became a clothing designer. He enjoyed the job quite a bit, always surrounded by beautiful people and always going to fabulous parties. To everyone's surprise (including his own) he married one of his female models and they had a daughter whom they spoiled rotten.

In the end, through all of their hardships, they managed to find at least a small piece of love and happiness, and that was all that really mattered.

* * *

**A/N There you go! All done! Yes, I know it's a little cheesy, but I hope you enjoyed this epilogue and this story as a whole anyway. **

**I have a few planned omake and a few planned side stories that I hope you'll read and enjoy. Also, I'm going to be rewriting this story right away. As you may have noticed, the plot and the characters completely ran away from me and a lot of what I had planned. A lot of things got changed and a lot of details were added and I just want to go back and fix everything to make sure it's continuous and the whole thing works. Again, thank you so much for all of your support. Thank you for sticking with this story the whole way through.**

***June 8th is the wedding day that Himaruya lists instead of Hungary's birthday.  
**


	24. Valentine's Omake

**A/N Yeah, I'm writing a Valentine 's Day story in July. So what?**

**So, this is the first of the omake. I have four planned, but I don't know how long it'll take me to write them. Anyway, please enjoy. :)  
**

**

* * *

**

Antonio sank further into the bush he was currently hiding in when he saw Ludwig's perfectly polished Audi pull up to the small home. A moment later, Feliciano came skipping out, his violin case swinging haphazardly from his hand as he threw himself into the car. Antonio grinned when he saw Feliciano lean over and hug Ludwig, pressing a kiss to his inflamed cheeks. Ludwig shoved him away before starting the car and driving off. A small giggled escaped Antonio. Ludwig acted eerily similar to Lovino when it came to his emotions and expressing them.

Which reminded him... Lovino's grandfather had already left for work nearly an hour ago and now Feliciano was gone, too, off for his early morning class. Everything was going according to plan. Lovino was all alone inside the house. Lifting his guitar, Antonio freed himself from the bush and climbed over the fence and into the Vargas' backyard, careful to keep his guitar out of danger.

Antonio was pleased to see that Lovino had left his window open. That was odd, since it was February and rather chilly, but that made his job that much easier. He grinned, already imagining just how happy Lovino would be when he got his Valentine's Day surprise. He kneeled on the ground, propping his guitar on his bent knee before he started playing the song he had painstakingly composed for him. He knew Lovino was still sleeping, so to make sure he heard the whole thing, he just played the opening bars of the song a few times until Lovino came to the window.

Antonio's stomach lurched pleasantly when he saw that Lovino had been sleeping naked, as usual, though he seemed to be clutching a blanket around his waist. His hair was mussed and he was squinting sleepily down at him. It was adorable. Antonio grinned at his boyfriend before he launched into the actual song.

"Lovinito, mi amor~"

Lovino's face was turning a cute shade of red and Antonio knew he was fighting off a smile. He finally finished the song with a gently whispered "Te amo~", the last chords fading out softly. He then stood up and set his guitar down carefully before gripping the familiar rose trellis that he thanked God Lovino's grandfather had built when they'd moved into this house. Antonio ripped a rose from the plant and set it between his teeth before climbing up the makeshift ladder. Dropping gracefully into Lovino's room, he removed the rose and offered it to Lovino.

"This was already mine, you moron," Lovino muttered, blushing cutely. "It grew on my house." Antonio grinned before he felt a small trickle run down his chin.

"The romantic movies should warn you that if you do that with a rose the thorns will cut up your mouth!" he said jokingly, licking his now bleeding lips.

"You're an idiot," Lovino informed him. Antonio responded by wrapping his arms around Lovino, causing him to shout in surprise and drop his blanket.

"I'm your idiot," he murmured huskily into Lovino's ear before gently biting it. Lovino shuddered. Antonio grinned.

**

* * *

**

Tino sighed as he revised the new seating chart for the class. Berwa–Mr. Oxenstierna wanted to rearrange the classroom so that Peter was sitting closer to his own desk and Tino could easily see why. The boy was adorable and Tino could tell that the two shared a father-son-like relationship. Peter had to stay later every day after school waiting for his stepbrother and as a result, had spent a lot of time with Tino and Mr. Oxenstierna.

"T'no."

He looked up in surprise to see Ber–Mr. Oxenstierna holding out a bouquet of white and blue flowers. "Th'se 're f'r you."

Shock made Tino accept the flowers (he told himself). Shock and nothing else.

"W-what are these for?" he stammered.

Mr. Oxenstierna cocked his head and gave him a confused looked. Tino shuddered.

_Scary!_

"It's f'r Val'nt'ne's Day," he answered, flushing slightly. Tino felt his heart rate start to increase. There had to have been some mistake. Maybe Be–Mr. Oxenstierna had misunderstood Valentine's Day, because there was no reason for him to be getting Tino a gift. That was only for lovers, and they were certainly not lovers. He blushed.

"But Valentine's Day is for couples, Mr. Oxenstierna," Tino argued, pushing the flowers back at a hurt-looking Mr. Oxenstierna. He felt terrible, but there was no way that Ber–_Mr. Oxenstierna _meant that it was a romantic gift. It was just a horrible misunderstanding and he wasn't going to let himself get confused for a mistake.

"Pl'se, c'll me Berw'ld," Mr. Oxenstierna mumbled, pushing the bouquet back to Tino. "'nd keep th'se."

Tino felt his own flush grow deeper, taking the bouquet back, clutching the flowers to his chest, feeling as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. Could Mr. Oxenstierna actually be serious? A fluttering feeling filled his chest and he tightened his grip on the flowers, unable to stop himself from feeling a wonderful sense of relief and happiness at that.

"Okay, Berw––" Tino started before the bell rang obnoxiously. He hurried away, embarrassed, grabbing the seating chart to direct the flow of students that started heading toward class. He was too flustered to notice the older student, obviously in high school, that ran away from their classroom giggling madly.

Berwald's constant scowl softened at the sight of Tino, flushed, still clutching the bouquet that students were starting to ask about.

"They're from an admirer," he told them before secretly looking over at Berwald. He was smiling.

**

* * *

**

Kiku sat in his first class, watching the clock intently and waiting for the bell to ring. He'd taken an early science class to squeeze in more credits, as had his friend Ludwig. Their other friend, Feliciano, had also taken the same early class, but Kiku knew it was only because he and Ludwig were both taking it. Feliciano was failing spectacularly and their teacher had assigned Kiku to tutor him so that he'd at least pass. It was rather stressing, but luckily for Kiku, it was easy enough to pass the job off to Ludwig. Kiku always thought it was rather cute that he could almost never refuse Feliciano. Those situations usually ended with him sneaking in a picture or two, which he would then send to Elizaveta.

As Kiku watched the clock, he started drumming his fingers on the table. He had something important to do as soon as this class was over; he was eager to give Heracles his Valentine's present. He'd worked long and hard on it and couldn't wait to see his boyfriend's reaction. Finally, the bell rang and Kiku rushed happily out of the room. Luckily, there was a small break between the end of the early classes and the start of the regular classes, so he headed to his locker to get something he had left there for safekeeping. He's spent too long in the kitchen with these to let them get ruined by Feliciano's antics. As much he enjoyed his friend's company, things tended to happen around him which could easily ruin any paper that needed to be turned in the next period or project or Valentine's gift and Kiku wasn't going to let that happen on his first Valentine's day with Heracles.

Even if he was too shy to admit it to people, he and Heracles had been dating for a while and they were both quite happy. Kiku had been looking forward to surprising Heracles on Valentine's Day for a long time now and he was excited that the moment had finally come. He entered his locker combination and twisted off the lock, then heard a quiet, familiar voice behind him.

"Konn... konnichiwa," Heracles mumbled, stumbling slightly on the Japanese he'd been learning.

"Your pronunciation was good, but it's too early for 'konnichiwa'," Kiku explained. "Right now it would be 'ohayou gozaimasu'." Heracles repeated the new phrase, mangling the pronunciation completely as Kiku pulled a bag from his locker. He'd been surprised but pleased when Heracles had told him that he wanted to learn Japanese and helped him practice. He, himself, had been trying to learn a few Greek phrases, but was having some trouble with it. Even now, all he could manage to say was "s'agapo" and he was usually too embarrassed to say it.

"Can we find someplace private?" he asked softy. Heracles nodded and they went outside, where there was no one.

"I wanted to give you this," Heracles mumbled, pulling a few flowers from his coat pocket. The flowers were a little squashed, but Kiku felt his heart melt when he recognized the flowers in the little bouquet.

"Chrysanthemums," Heracles said, pointing the white flowers in his hands, "for Kiku, and wasurenagusa," he pointed to the blue flowers. "Truth," he translated, "and true love. I looked up the Japanese flower meanings on the internet, so I hope it's right."

Kiku nodded and accepted the bouquet, touched. He pulled out a small, wrapped package from the bag he'd taken out of his locker and gave it to Heracles.

"In Japan, on Valentine's Day, the girls give the boys they like chocolate," he said softly. "I made these myself." Heracles accepted them, smiling and kissed his cheek, enjoying the embarrassed flush that graced Kiku's pale face. It was too much fun to get him flustered. He vaguely thought he heard a clicking sound, but ignored it.

"What do the boys do in Japan for Valentine's Day?" he asked. Kiku smiled.

"Well, they have something called White Day..."

**

* * *

**

Alfred clutched the stuffed elephant he'd bought for Linh and the card that went with it as he approached her during their brunch break. She was getting something out of her locker and Alfred cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Linh, hey," he said nervously, biting the inside of his cheek when she turned around and looked at him.

"Hi, Alfred," she greeted him.

"Hi," he said again before mentally cursing. He'd expected to sound a lot cooler. He had in all of the practice runs he'd forced Matthew to go through with him.

"Um, I got these for you," he stuttered as he handed her the presents. "I know you like elephants," he mumbled. Linh looked surprised, but in a good way. Shifting the elephant to one arm (and gazing down on it happily–it was a pretty damn cute elephant), she opened the card and stared at the writing inside.

"I had to ask Tuan in my math class to write it," Alfred admitted. He knew that the freshman spoke Vietnamese and had asked him for help with the message in the card. He'd ended up letting Tuan just write it himself because Alfred was having trouble trying to copy the strange accents in the phrase: "Tôi thích bạn. Bạn sẽ là bạn gái của tôi?"

Linh blushed before looking away.

"I actually can't read Vietnamese," she admitted. "I can only speak it."

Alfred flushed. Crap.

"Uh, I can try to read it for you," he offered. "Tuan read it out loud so I sort of remember how to say it." He took the card and stared at the perplexing letters for a moment. "Okay, uh, 'toy teach ban. Ban shay la guy kwa toy'." He looked up at Linh. She was biting her lip and trying not to laugh. "Could you understand that at all?"

"Your accent's pretty bad, but I think I got it," she said with a smile. "And my answer is yes."

"Sweet!" Alfred exclaimed, relief flooding through him. "So, you wanna go out tonight?"

"Sure," Linh answered.

**

* * *

**

Ludwig sat down with his lunch in the cafeteria, looking around nervously. Except for the kiss in the car earlier, Feliciano hadn't tried anything and it was making him suspicious. Not to mention he'd brought his violin to school for some reason. Ludwig was certain that Feliciano was going to make another one of the weird gestures of friendship he always did, embarrassing him horribly. It had happened many times before, but this was Valentine's Day. He was used to his friend's weird habits, but if he did something weird on Valentine's Day, it might make people suspect something that wasn't there. Ludwig looked around again before determining that he was safe. He started to eat his lunch.

"LUDWIG!"

He cringed when he heard that voice and saw Feliciano running across the cafeteria, his violin and bow clutched tightly in his hands. Oh, God, there was no way this could end well. Even though he was fully aware that Feliciano's arrival meant his own doom, Ludwig couldn't help but stop long enough to wonder why couldn't Feliciano run that fast when they were in gym?

The entire cafeteria was gaping at them. Ludwig wanted to die. He stood up abruptly, determined to throw away his pride and run away before Feliciano could humiliate him.

Again.

"WAIT! Ludwig! I have something for you!" Feliciano shouted, skidding to a stop in front of his best friend, blocking off his escape path. "It's a song I wrote! For you!" He placed his violin under his chin while Ludwig sank into a nearby chair, already feeling a hideous flush on his face. He could already hear the snickers. "_Why_?" he cried silently to the heavens.

"I call this song 'Song to Ludwig'!" Feliciano announced before putting the bow to the strings and played the opening bars of the song. Somehow, he managed to sing while playing, a feat Ludwig would have marveled at if the song weren't solely about beer, wurst, his fitness level, and pasta. He could feel his face growing hotter and hotter as he sank lower and lower into the chair. He was acutely aware of all of the snickers and catcalls. Oblivious, Feliciano played and sang on. Finally, after what felt like a century, the song came to an end. In reality, the song wasn't even two minutes, but to Ludwig, it had felt like forever. Relief washed over him as the last notes faded out. It was over. Maybe he could even get the blood out of his face and back to his vital organs.

"I love you, Ludwig!"

Strike that. The snickers turned into full-blown laughter. Ludwig stood up abruptly and stormed out of the cafeteria, his face somehow flushed even darker than before.

"Ludwig! Wait!" Feliciano cried out, running after him. Ludwig could hear all sorts of taunts following them. His fists clenched in fury.

"Ludwig is something wrong?" Feliciano wailed. "Is it because I wrote that song in E flat? Do you like A flat better?" They'd finally arrived in an empty hallway so Ludwig turned on the smaller man.

"_Why did you do that?" _

Feliciano cringed and stepped back a few feet at Ludwig's angry tone.

"Ve~," he said tearfully. "I just wanted to make you happy." Like always, Ludwig felt his anger crumble away at Feliciano's first tear, replaced by guilt and self-hatred. He hated making his friend cry, but he couldn't stop himself from getting angry and embarrassed whenever Feliciano did things like this. It was humiliating. Humiliating because of all the jeers of his classmates, but also because of his own feelings. Feliciano's random displays of affection made Ludwig ridiculously happy and dredged up feelings he knew he had to suppress. That own happiness sickened him. It wasn't right to feel like that for a man. Ludwig sighed and pressed a hand to his temple, avoiding Feliciano's tear-filled eyes.

"It would make me happy if you would stop doing these things," Ludwig lied. He was sick of lying to himself and to everyone, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't let his family find out about this, not ever. They could never be together, and he didn't want to let himself feel happiness with Feliciano when he knew that he would have to leave him eventually. He didn't even know if he had enough strength to do that. He didn't think he could ever put up with the pain of having to leave him. That was why he was never going to let himself love Feliciano.

"But… How else can I show you how much I love you?" Feliciano asked. Ludwig could feel his eyes boring straight into him and he turned away to avoid it. He would never admit it to anyone, but he loved hearing that phrase. It was a sick pleasure of his, mental sadomasochism combined with the desire to please his family that made him deny everything he felt for Feliciano and push him away.

"Stop throwing that phrase around," he muttered. "We're friends," he said firmly, more to himself than anyone else. "Friends like each other. Lovers can love each other, but we're just friends. You like me."

He could hear Feliciano swallow.

"Okay, Ludwig," he said softly, defeated. "I like you. Is that better?"

No, it only made him feel even worse about himself.

"Yes. Much better."

**

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**

**Why am I so mean to my favorite pairing? I love Gertalia. What's wrong with me? Plus, I ended a Valentine's fic with depressing crap. I hope the fluff in the first four parts was enough to make up for the intense emofest at the end.**

***"Konnichiwa" means hello, but it's used in the afternoons.**

***"Ohayou gozaimasu" is the polite way of saying "good morning".**

***"S'agapo" is Greek for "I love you".**

***Kiku means chrysanthemum in Japanese. It's also a girl's name. **

***In Japanese flower language, or hanakotoba, a white chrysanthemum means truth and the wasurenagusa, or forget-me-not, means true love.**

***In Japan, on Valentine's Day, girls will give chocolate to the boys they like. A month later, on White Day, the boys return the favor and buy something for the girls.**

*******EDIT: ****"Tôi thích bạn. Bạn sẽ là bạn gái của tôi?"**** means "I like you. Will you be my girlfriend?" ****Thank you Tawnyblood for correcting my Vietnamese. **

***E flat and A flat are two different set of notes (called keys) that are used when writing music. **


	25. Proposal Omake

**A/N Sorry this took so long. I started other Hetalia fanfics which distracted me. This omake is just a short one that takes place several years in the future. Also, I'm cutting the omake down to only three. Sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**Finally, I'm currently part of a project to put together a fanbook. You can find more information about it here http:/ christmasfanbook. wordpress. com/ for more information, but it's basically going to be a "A Christmas Carol" themed-fanbook, where each of the eleven featured characters gets a fanfic and a few fancomics/art about a Christmas Past, Present, and Future. You can ask for this fanbook as a Christmas present, since it'll be on sale just in time for the holiday season! So check it out, it's going to be great!**

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**

"Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold!" Gilbert whined.

He shivered violently as he let himself into the house he shared with Matthew, shrugging out of his thick winter coat. Mild Californian winters were one of the things he missed most about his old home. The cold in Vancouver had taken some getting used to, but after two years Gilbert was much better at dealing with Canadian winters. Especially when the cold let him snuggle up to his lover and insist that he needed to be warmed up.

"Mattie?" Gilbert called out. He waited a moment but didn't hear a reply. Good. Everything was going according to plan.

Still shivering, Gilbert crossed to the thermostat in the hallway and cranked it up before going to the back of the house and throwing open the back door. He quickly stepped out onto the porch then closed the door behind him to keep the cold air out of the house.

"Kumagaya!" he yelled. He waited a few moments before a large white dog ambled up to him. "Come here, boy!" he urged the dog before grabbing him by the collar and bringing him into the house which had thankfully gotten much warmer.

Matthew and Gilbert had gotten the dog as a Christmas present when they'd first started renting their house in Canada. They found the dog at a local animal shelter and had immediately fallen in love with him and taken the dog home. When they had first adopted him, they had decided to keep the original name that had been on the dog's collar when he'd been put in the shelter. However, neither Matthew nor Gilbert could actually remember what exactly it was. All either of them could remember was that it started with "Kuma" so the dog's name changed quite often, since they would just fill in the second half with whatever came to mind.

"I've got an important job for you, Kumajuon!" Gilbert stated as he led the dog to their house's sole bedroom. He settled on the bed, facing the dog. Gilbert reached into his bedside table drawer and pulled a roll of ribbon, then pulled a small box from his pocket. He'd been planning this for weeks. He'd taken his time, picking out the perfect ring for Matthew and had spent weeks writing and rewriting the accompanying speech. He'd even practiced.

"Hold still," Gilbert admonished the dog as he wrapped the ribbon around the box and the dogs head, tying it down tightly enough so that the box wouldn't slip but not so tightly as to make Kumaman uncomfortable. He tied the final bow and surveyed his work proudly.

"All right, Kumatama," he said, sitting back. "I'm planning something awesome but I need your help. Your job is simple. When I let you out, all you have to do is walk up to Mattie. Okay?"

The dog let out a short bark that, oddly enough, sounded almost like the word "who". Gilbert chose to interpret the bark as a "yes".

"Awesome!" he said, clapping his hands together. "I'm counting on you, Kumaruto! This has to be awesome."

Gilbert glanced over at the alarm clock. Damn. Matthew wasn't supposed to get home for another twenty minutes. He'd expected it to take much longer than that to get things ready. He shrugged, then shut Kumariku in their bedroom and went back to the living room to waste twenty minutes playing Call of Duty. By the time Matthew walked through the front door, Gilbert was completely absorbed in his game and didn't even notice him until Matthew was standing right behind him.

"Gilbert," Matthew said, scaring Gilbert and causing him to jump in shock and die in his game.

"Yes, Mattie?" he replied when his heart rate had gone back to normal.

"Don't turn the heater up so high, you'll run up our bills."

"But I'm cold!" he whined. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"So do something to warm yourself up," he replied nonchalantly. A devious grin crossed Gilbert's face and he pulled Matthew down onto the couch with him.

"Awesome idea," he murmured into Matthew's ear before launching his attack against Matthew's mouth, putting off his earlier objective for a few breathless minutes on the couch with his lover. A whining sound interrupted them and Gilbert realized Kumaruya was still shut up in their bedroom.

"Is that Kumachu?" Matthew asked, getting up from the couch to free Kumasolo from their bedroom. He was halfway there when Gilbert remembered that he had a plan. And this was not part of it. He threw himself off the couch and ran down the hallway, slamming his back against the door to keep Matthew from opening it.

"Gil?" Matthew looked at him in confusion.

"Uh, hi!" Gilbert said stupidly. Matthew narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Should I be worried?"

"No," Gilbert replied after a short pause. Matthew gave him a strange look, but then sighed and turned around.

"I'm going to go get a drink," he said before heading off toward the kitchen. Gilbert sighed in relief after Matthew was out of sight the opened to door to see Kumakira staring at him with the box still tied to his head.

"Do you still remember the plan?" he whispered to the dog. He stared blankly back. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Now let's go!"

Gilbert opened the door of their bedroom wider and let the dog out. Kumagioh ambled slowly down the hallway, Gilbert following after. He stared around the corner of the hallway as the dog entered the kitchen and stopped in front of Matthew, who was making hot chocolate.

"What's this?" he said out loud, staring at the dog. "Whatcha got there, Kumachigo?" He unwrapped the ribbons from the dogs head and Gilbert stepped quietly into the kitchen as Matthew opened the box. And froze. Gilbert cleared his throat and stepped out in front of Matthew, a nervous flush gracing his face.

"Mattie," he began, just as he'd planned out. There was a short awkward silence as Gilbert, too froze. "Uh… Um… I…" He thought frantically, searching for the words he had painstakingly chosen and came up blank.

"Goddammit, I forgot what I was going to say!" he wailed. "I had an awesome speech planned out and everything! Give me a minute; it'll come back to me!"

He wracked his brain furiously, trying to remember even just the first word of his planned speech. His brain was experiencing a random moment of sheer unawesomeness and he couldn't for the life of him remember the speech he'd planned out for his proposal.

"Aww, fuck it," he finally growled, grabbing Matthew's free hand. "Mattie," he began, and then stopped.

"Oh, right, I'm supposed to be on one knee, right?" he asked before quickly ducking down, banging his knee hard on the ground. He stifled a swear.

"Mattie," he said, trying for the third time. He swallowed hard before he continued. "I love you," he said simply. "Will you marry me?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Gilbert suddenly found himself lying (rather painfully) on his back on the kitchen floor with Matthew on top of him, kissing the living daylights out of him.

"Yes!" Matthew proclaimed between kisses. "Of course I will!"

Pure elation filled Gilbert when Matthew said "yes". He grinned happily as he returned Matthew's kisses passionately. After a few mind-blowing minutes, they were finally forced to separate so that they could breathe. Matthew sat back and took the plain gold band from the box before sliding it on his finger.

"I love you, Gilbert," he whispered lovingly. Gilbert pulled him closer.

"I love you, too, Mattie. And I always will."

**

* * *

**

***Sappy ending is sappy. **

***Coming up with new names for Kumajirou is a pain in the butt. I just threw a bunch of random references after the "kuma" part. **


End file.
